


Training Dragons and Other Sure Fire Ways to Die

by SeasonsofLauren



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Dragon Rider!AU, Dragon Rider!Peter, Dragon Shifter!AU, Dragon Shifter!Wade, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Royalty, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-18 17:56:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 25,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12393198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeasonsofLauren/pseuds/SeasonsofLauren
Summary: “It appears it’s time for little Peter to play pretend dragon knight again. Maybe this time he’ll become a real man and return to the king with a dragon of his own, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”Dragon Rider!AU where Peter is just waiting for a dragon of his own.And then he finally gets it.





	1. Pretend Dragon Knight

“It appears it’s time for little Peter to play pretend dragon knight again. Maybe  _ this  _ time he’ll become a real man and return to the king with a dragon of his own, but I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

  
  


The gathering party erupts into laughter. Peter simply ignores them though, used to their posturing even as he pushes ahead to lead the group through the forest with his hand secure on the grip of his sword still resting in its scabbard. Although Peter, in the company of this exact party assembled of the best knights in the kingdom, has taken many journeys into the enchanted forest with no complications, there’s no harm in being careful. 

  
  


“Look at Little Peter playing pretend with his hand on his sword like a big boy.”

  
  


Peter has to grit his teeth in annoyance. They are a two-day’s journey away from the kingdom, and the entire expedition has been spent ridiculing Peter. Yet again. Ajax has been the grand master of his ridicule, refusing to let it pass that Peter still hasn’t picked his dragon although he’s been attempting to create a bond for the past half year. Most knights are able to make the connection with a dragon on the second or third try, but none of the ones Peter has interacted with seem inclined.

  
  


Peter lets out a long breath as he scours the woods as a precaution, his hand never leaving his sword. A heavy, gauntlet clad hand lands on Peter’s shoulder, causing his grip on the hilted sword to tighten just a fraction. Letting all of the tension ease out of him as quickly as it arrived, a reassured smile spreads across Peter’s face. Without having to turn to look at those paternal blue eyes, Peter is sure exactly who it is: Sir Steve Rogers.

  
  


Rogers has been in King Tony’s riding party since the very beginning, so it’s an honor that he’s taken a liking to Peter. He has known the veteran knight since the younger was old enough to wield a sword, having his stance be adjusted by the same firm hands now grounding him. The firm voice that has gotten Peter through seven years of insecurity and finding his way now holds him back from making a retort to Ajax’s childish games, “Don’t let his words cut too deep. He’s simply jealous due to not having made a connection himself.”

  
  


“It’s too much a pissing contest around here,” It feels almost like an accomplishment to hear Steve’s deep chuckle rumbling through him. Attempting to find more distance from the stress of the situation, knowing it will do little good to attempt to form a bond with negative emotions, Peter turns to address Steve like a child asking for a bedtime story, “Can you tell me about how you found Bucky.”

 

Winning another chuckle out of his mentor, the hand on Peter’s shoulder tightens before Steve says with a smile on his face, “Are you not tired of this story yet? How many times have you heard it?”

  
  


“Enough that another time won’t hurt.”

  
  


“Quite a time ago, almost verging on twenty-four years by now…”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


_ A scrawny, blond haired boy - no, man as he turned eighteen a week ago excitedly waits for the gates to open to the Rebirth Dragon Sanctuary, even though it’s less than ideal for Steve to have to pick a previously bonded dragon. It’s common place for sanctuaries such as the one Steve finds himself standing front of to exist, but it has been said that a bond between a previously bonded dragon is weaker than the first. Even though these unfounded rumors, it’s rather common to have a dragon with a previous rider as dragons live upwards of ten thousand years, vastly outliving their riders. It still leaves the prejudice that a previously bonded dragon is for the poor, the undeserving.  _

  
  


_ This doesn’t faze Steve one bit as he pushes to the front of the group to be the first to burst in. Once the heavy gates finally swing open, Steve takes a hurried set of steps inside, but is quickly jostled from side to side as he stands stock still staring at the beauty in front of him.  _

  
  


_ Dragons.  _

  
  


_ It’s one thing to hear recounted stories about them or even to see masterly drawn pictures, but seeing rows upon rows of dragons of all shapes and sizes chained down in perfectly spread out rows takes his breath away. Steve barely passed the physical test to become a knight, but this moment of pure amazement made every second of the bone crushing workouts worth it.  _

  
  


_ Steve blinks to regain his focus, noticing all of his peers running down the aisles in attempts to get the best dragon, forging a connection by trying every single one that looks cool. Steve knows that’s not the right way; at least not the way he’s going to do it. _

  
  


_ Calmly, putting power and confidence into every step pushing him forward, Steve strides down the walkway, turning his head to consider every dragon he passes. As Steve prepares to turn the corner to go to the next row, he hears chuckling behind him, “Look at Rogers striding as if he could  _ actually  _ make a bond.” _

  
  


_ Taking a deep breath, knowing that nothing comes of his short temper besides injuries he has to clean up himself, Steve decides to keep walking to the next dragon. There have been some truly beautiful dragons Steve has passed; one a nearly blinding ice white with black scales surroundings its mouth that playfully bit at Steve’s ankles as he stepped too close; or another, a slim green dragon the color of a marsh curled up asleep with its heads cradled in its arms. All breathtaking in their own regards, but none have striked Steve as the one. _

  
  


_ Until he sees the dragon at the end of the first row. _

  
  


_ Calling the dragon massive would be a disservice as the dragon dwarfs every other in the sanctuary, its bulging muscles straining against the chains holding it down. Large, silver horns jut out from the side of its skull, arching down towards the jawline before curving outwards, coming to a point sharper than any sword that could be forged. The scales covering its underbelly is a distinct pattern of softer obsidian scales, contrasting with the sharp dagger-like ones covering the back and neck of the dragon, lined with light grey ones forming what looks like plates of armor. With all of its hulking mass and the stark coloring compared to the mostly pigmented others aside, the most alluring attribute of this particular dragon is its eyes.  _

  
  


_ They’re blood red.  _

  
  


_ Although this should be an alarming trait, and boy is it, instead of unsettled, Steve feels reassured by the intensity hidden underneath the already terrifying figure. The deep red is discomfiting in the worst of ways, but staring into the reptilian feature there is a softness shadowed by the all consuming aura of the endlessly muscled form that speaks to Steve. Something about this dragon just  _ speaks  _ to him.This dragon could swallow Steve’s bony form with barely any thought, but something about it seems to pull him forward.  _

  
  


_ The only thing stopping him is the hoard of eligible knights already surrounding the dragon. Steve can’t help himself but take a few steps forward, not fighting his way through the crowd, but simply trying to get closer to the contradictory hidden in such a simple feature. It’s ridiculous that Steve hones in on the most coveted dragon; not because of its prestige or grandeur, but simply because it has nice eyes. Without realising it, Steve has gotten close enough to touch the dragon, his fingers straining out to touch his finger tips to the dipped snout.  _

  
  


_ Moments before they can make contact, a strong force knocks Steve to the side, sending him sprawling against the ground. Steve looks up, hands immediately getting into a protective position, seeing a herd of kids slowly surrounding him. The same guy from earlier, always being a thorn in Steve’s side throughout training, strides forward from the group, “And what, pray tell, makes you think  _ you _ , who barely passed the entrance exam, can bond that dragon?” _

  
  


_ Steve props himself up on his elbows as to look nonchalant as he rests on the ground from where the guy put him, “And what, pray tell, makes you think  _ you _ can bond that dragon?” _

  
  


_ As if it’s the reassurance the guy needed, he takes confident strides toward the dragon, the crowd parting for him to pass. Once he’s within in an arm’s length, he swiftly turns around to face Steve, and the crowd, as if he’s putting on a show, “Ask and you shall receive.” _

  
  


_ Making a huge show of flaring his arm into the air, the guy places a firm hand on the middle of the dragon’s head, slightly higher than between the eyes. The crowd, especially Steve, holds their breath as they wait for a reaction from the dragon. Everyone appears to be on their toes in anticipation as the dragon simply rests with its eyes staring straight forward.  _

  
  


_ After a few more moments of stunned silence, the dragon lets out a heavy breath of steaming air from its nose before sharply snapping its head to the side, sending the guy flying through the air effortlessly before anyone can even react. Once the shock fades away from the group, everyone bursts into laughter. _

  
  


_ Everyone besides Steve. _

  
  


_ Quickly standing up and dusting off the dirt from being knocked on the ground, Steve takes hesitant steps towards the dragon, anxious from being forced to walk through the crowd. Once Steve retakes the position he was forced out of moments ago, Steve gently places his fingertips against the same spot the jerk’s was moments before. _

  
  


_ Bracing himself against being launched into the air, Steve is surprised to feel the dragon’s head slide out from underneath his hand, feeling a burst of contentment filling his chest. The only thought that can pass through Steve’s dumbstruck head is,  _ this is what a bond feels like. _ Steve is frozen in surprise as a heavy dragon head is placed on top of his, causing him to bend his knees to brace himself and a chuckle to escape from his throat. Once it slips through, he can’t stop himself as his arms snake above his head to wrap around his dragon’s snout as best as he can as he begins to uncontrollably laugh. _

  
  


His _ dragon. _

  
  


_ This is  _ his  _ dragon. _

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“Is Rogers regaling us with his over romanticised story again?”

  
  


“Only if Ajax is being an utter cumberground again?”

  
  


Peter can practically see the steam pouring out of Ajax’s ears as Peter’s insult induces a round of laughter among the party. Not wanting to take the time to get involved with more banter, knowing it would only slow them down and cause more discourse among the group that is not needed on such an emotionally sensitive trip, Peter forges ahead with Steve following close behind as he always is. 

  
  


The next few hours are passed with Peter and Steve filling the space between them with small chatter while the rest of the group talks amongst themselves. Although Peter generally finds each of them to be his friend (He enjoys sparring with Clint because even though he taunts Peter the entire time, he corrects Peter’s form in a clear but teaching way; Thor has on more than one occasion invited Peter out ot the taverns, even though he knows Peter is not fond of drinking, or carrying a drunk Thor home as he babbles about the glory of his home country; Although they’re both knights, Peter and Bruce have gotten into more than one heated discussion about the necessity of flux capacitors in potion making; Peter has always admired, and been slightly jealous, of Wanda for already having her dragon bond even though she’s the same age as Peter), once they are coupled with the asshattery of Ajax who Peter considers several notches below a friend, they become insufferable. Peter is not one to be upset at being the butt of a joke, but when that is the constant conversation for a three day trip, it begins to wear on your nerves. So yeah, they’re friends; it just doesn’t mean that Peter can alway stomach their presence.

  
  


Once they make it to where the trees brake, exposing a cliff’s edge that overlooks more dense forests and mountainous expanses, Bruce faces the group with his usual calm voice, “We’re approaching the breeding grounds. Stay light footed and silent.”

  
  


Peter acknowledges Bruce’s warning with a swift nod of his head and the tightening of his grip on the hilt of his sword, shifting it so it slips out of its sheath easier. Although in their past seven expeditions, they haven’t had the misfortune of disturbing a creature near the dragon’s breeding grounds, Peter has always liked to play it safe. Dragons are extremely protective of their young, so creatures traveling near the grounds are generally on edge, ready to attack at the smallest of sounds. Peter wouldn’t like to be blindsided by an attack.

  
  


It appears that some others in the group aren’t thinking the same thing as Ajax drops his sack of supplies down onto the ground, causing the party to stop to check back on him. The sound of the contents rattling against each other and slapping against the ground sends Peter on edge as he turns around to hiss at Ajax, “On purpose, do you cause such a raucous?”

  
  


Ajax snarks back at him with a bite to his tone, “Pipe down, pint size. I’m simply pulling out my rations. I assumed now would be the best time rather than closer to those feral creatures.”

  
  


“Why did you not stuff your face when we stopped not fifty paces ago?”

  
  


“I simply was not hungry.”

  
  


“What, are you not six? Are you really so simple you cannot even tell when you are hungry or naught?”

  
  


“Silence. What was not clear clear from Banner’s warning?”

  
  


Without realising it, Ajax and Peter’s conversation had slowly risen in volume until they voices had risen to above speaking level. Although it hadn’t become a screaming match, as it usually did between the two, that increase in volume alone could have caused a chain reaction none of them know about. Peter lets out a long sigh before turning to Wanda, “I apologise. I let me temperment get the better of me.”

  
  


Ajax rolls his eyes, clearly not affected by Peter’s honest apology, “Do you plan to put the party in peril? First, the dragons are left. Then, you, the impish nuisance, takes command. Now, you start screaming as we finish our approach to the breeding grounds. Are you trying to get us all killed?”

  
  


Peter snaps, dropping his own supplies onto the ground next to Ajax as he tries to keep his voice below a whisper, “I am trying to do what is _ best _ for the party. You know as well as I that if the dragons were brought, it would unsettle both the domesticated and wild. It would be nearly impossible to forge any sort of bond, that is the  _ objective _ of the mission, so I thought it would be in our best interest to leave them behind. Now, I take command because if it was left to your unsuitable hands there would be no progress except for your stomach, as made clear by this. Very. Moment. Now I am simply raising my voice in hopes that these words will get through your thick skull, but it  _ appears  _ that there is no way for that except for with an axe. Maybe I should give  _ that _ one a try instead.”

  
  


Having lost any pretense of civility, Ajax lunges forward, grabbing Peter by the straps of his chest plate and yanking him forward until they are face to face. He practically yells into Peter’s face, “You entitled brat!”

  
  


Steve surges forward to place a placating hand on each of their shoulders, “I pray you step back. We are too close for you to be-”

  
  


The whole party goes silent as a creature breaks through the underbrush. With all of the hours spent training to hone their reflexes, the creature just nearly misses Peter and Ajax who send themselves tumbling across the dusty ground to avoid collision. Skidding to a stop only a few paces from the edge of the cliff, the creature makes a swift turn to face the group before charging at them again. As if it’s second nature to him, Peter has pulled out his sword and slashes at the hide of the creature with thick fur and four tusks along its snout charging at him. Although he lands a good hit that leaves a deep gash against the side of the creature, Peter only avoids getting impaled by nanoseconds. 

  
  


Giving Peter a moment to catch his breath after two near misses, the creature turns and charges at Wanda, but she is already ready with a potion pulled out of her bag, her dagger in her other hand. With perfectly practiced accuracy, she launches her concoction of pain inducing at the creature, causing it let out a sharp squeal. It starts to frantically squirm as the potion sinks into its skin. After a moment of its torment, Wanda pulls out a potion of relief in an attempt to calm the creature, but before she can administer it, the creature regains composure.

  
  


Being totally unprepared, expecting the potion to work like all of their hours spent practicing dictated, Peter is caught completely by surprise as the creature collides with his chest, sending him flying off of the cliff. Peter feels the world slow as he’s sent airborne, grasping at empty air as if it can save him, hearing the final shrieks of the creature and the deafening screams of his teammates. After a few moments of floating in air, it’s almost as if the world catches up to him; he feels only a few things as he falls towards the earth.

  
  


Tree branches scraping against any and all exposed skin

  
  


Dirt sliding against his back, and arms, and face.

  
  


The sickening feeling of his leg snapping on impact with a tree.

  
  


His arm getting caught, then breaking free with a pop.

  
  


His head colliding with the ground a few too many times.

 

And finally the sweet, sweet feeling of unconsciousness takes him.

  
  


* * *

  
  


With a deep groan, Peter cracks his eyes open, taking in all of the pain surrounding his body like a cloud. Although he doesn’t know how long he’s been out, he knows that he’s been bleeding and is caked in dirt. Peter tries to roll onto his side so he can start getting out of this position in case any predators were attracted to this spot, but lets out another weak groan before flopping back down into the same spot. From his right, Peter hears a snort of hot breath, almost like a snort. That keeps happening.  _ Laughing. _

  
  


Snapping bolt right in his spot, hand instantly going to his sheath but his hand meets only empty air reminding him that his sword was probably lost with the fall. After the adrenaline starts to drain out of his body, the strain of sitting upright catches up to Peter and another groan of pain passes through his lips. With the moment of revelling in his own pain, Peter’s eyes snap open as he remembers exactly why he was sitting up.

  
  


There’s a dragon.

  
  


A  _ huge  _ dragon.

 

A huge dragon  _ laughing at him. _

  
  


Not enough groans in the world could summarize how sucky Peter’s life is right now. Peter slams his head back against the ground in frustration, feeling complete exhaustion consume his body as he screams at the world, “Seriously, I got seperated from my group, my leg is probably broken, and now I have a giant ass dragon laughing at me. Can this get any worse?’

  
  


Before Peter can say another word of disgust with the world, he feels large claws wrap around his midsection, hoisting him up in the air. The only thing he can hear is the rhythmic flapping of wings and the sound of his own shrieking.

  
  



	2. The Giant Fucking Dragon Who Kidnapped Him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it takes me forever to update! I'm hoping to have the next chapter out in a reasonable time though! Fingers crossed!
> 
>  
> 
> There's a semi-graphic scene of setting bones so if you get a little squeamish, there's a chapter summary at the end

Peter passes out from the pain while they’re flying through the air so Peter’s is wildly disoriented when he wakes up. He is cautiously shifted as the ground slowly starts coming towards him. With a groan, Peter is gently set down onto the ground.

  
  


By a giant fucking  _ dragon _ .

  
  


Who  _ kidnapped  _ him.

  
  


If Peter hadn’t definitely broken his leg, he would be stomping off towards this unknown dragon and giving it a piece of his mind. Which he probably lost if he thinks a dragon is going to understand anything he’s saying. Peter flops back down against the ground. He’s totally lost his mind.

  
  


With a deep, pained sigh Peter closes his eyes to feel where his pain pools in his body most, centering around his leg and shoulder. There’s a possibility he could have a concussion, but not severe enough that he’s vomiting or slurring his thoughts, so he can power through it. Peter tries to bend his leg to test his injuries, but he lets out a high yip in pain and immediately stops. So definitely broken, or at least sprained. Peter tries to lift both of his arms, but he has to drop the right one back to the ground as his shoulder shoots out a stabbing pain in protest. With a huff in both pain and annoyance, Peter flops back against the ground. 

  
  


After a few moments of catch his breath and wallowing in the hole his life has undoubtedly become, Peter sits up, deciding he’s going to get to work making himself a splint and a sling. First things first, he needs to pop his shoulder back into his socket so it can heal faster. 

  
  


Looking doing as his limp arm, Peter swallows down the dread forming in his throat before propping his arm against the ground and throwing body weight against it. Hearing a sick pop, Peter’s eyes fill with tears from the pain as he bites his bottom lip to muffle the scream trying to escape. He slumps back to the ground, this time face first into the dirt.

  
  


Once the black dots blurring around Peter’s vision finally disappear, Peter looks around to assess his surroundings. To his right sits The Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him with its front legs crossed over each other, lounging as it simply watches Peter’s struggle to gasp in air around the pain. If Peter wasn’t in so much pain, he would stomp across the gap between them and punch that dragon in its smug face.

  
  


Besides the fact that it’s wrong to hit dragons.

  
  


And it would probably set him on fire. Or eat him.

  
  


Not being able to get a good glimpse before he was hoisted away into the sky, Peter finally soaks in the image of his kidnapper. This dragon makes  _ Bucky  _ look small, and that’s saying a lot because Bucky is the biggest dragon Peter has ever seen. Had. Had ever seen. After this dragon that’s  _ huge _ . Its burgundy scales glimmer as they catch the sun just right. There are huge black horns curling from around the top of the skull dropping to around the jawline then swooping back up to around the end of the snout in perfect, symmetrical spirals continuing around on either side of the dragon’s face. Peter is mesmerized by the black scales littered across the dragon’s mouth in sharp contrast to the deep red covering the rest of the body. This dragon is a pure work of art, but the most awe inspiring feature are its eyes.

  
  


Its eyes are like two pieces of obsidian, shimmering but darker than a black hole. Once they make eye contact, Peter can’t look away as he stares deep into those enchanting eyes. The dragon blinks at him slowly, almost as if it’s stuck in that same trance. That moment of lost contact shakes Peter out of his stupor as he takes in the world around him again. Looking down at his lame arm and leg, Peter lets out a deep sigh before addressing the dragon in an annoyed voice, “What’s the likelihood you could find me a long strong stick and something sharp to cut my shirt?”

  
  


After a few moments of staring at each other, Peter blinks at the dragon, before slumping back down to the ground, letting out the umpteenth frustrated groan, “I really am going insane.”

  
  


Peter’s eyes snap open when a heavy weight settles down on his back. Gingerly flipping over, Peter sees that the dragon has placed a long, sturdy stick snapped at the exact right length for him to tie to his leg in a makeshift splint, along with a picked off scale sharper than any knife Peter had ever seen and long vines. Peter’s eyes quickly snap up to look at the dragon that is staring at the sky, blowing circles of smoke through its nostrils. Looking down at the supplies again, Peter feels dumbstruck, “There’s no way…”

  
  


Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, Peter starts the slow task of splinting his leg one handed. Peter lets out muffled grunts of pain every so often as he has to adjust his leg to set it as properly as he can, but in the end he’s able to set it pretty well with strips of vines wrapped tightly to connect the sturdy stick to his leg. Once his leg is a prepared as it’s going to be, Peter turns his attention to his arm. Peter grunts as he attempts to remember all of his knight first aid training, having zoned out of the class in favor of attempting to memorize dragon anatomy.

  
  


Finally deciding, Peter starts the painfully slow, and just straight painful, task of shedding his upper body armor until the only thing left is the coat he wears underneath. Looking down at his coat, he grunts in pain as he slips it off, deciding to adjust his plan to take off the overshirt underneath as well before slipping back on the coat, separated from his skin by a thinner undershirt. Slowly, he starts the arduous task of replacing his armor

  
  


Letting out a long breath to prepare himself for the pain, Peter slips the shirt back on over his head, sliding his injured arm into the sleeve of the shirt that bulges from the extra strain from the armor underneath. After a few moments of letting out a breath through his clenched teeth, Peter forces himself to bend his arm, wrapping the unoccupied sleeve around his injured one to support it. Once he’s confident enough in the stability of his arm, Peter lays back against the ground properly bandaged. 

 

His moment of relief is ruined when his stomach lets out a long gurgle. Peter slams his head back against the ground, instantly regretting it when his head started throbbing, before groaning, “When will my torment  _ end _ ?”

 

The Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him, that Peter almost forgot about, lets out another long snort that Peter confirms is definitely it laughing at him. Closing his eyes to wallow in his misery, accepting that he may be going hungry for a while now, Peter just continues to lay on the ground. 

 

After a few moments, his eyes snap open to the sound of the underbrush ruffling. Scanning his surroundings, he sees the hulking tail of the dragon disappearing, a streak of deep red against the woods. Now without the assumed protection of the dragon, Peter decides to try to hobble off to find some safety instead of being completely exposed in a clearing. After he rests his body for a little while longer. Just a little while.

  
  
  
  


Peter snaps awake to the sound of something heavy being dropped by his head. He instantly tries to stumble into a fighting position, but his shoulder and leg groan in protest instead. With little to protect himself, Peter simply turns his head to see a burnt creature placed next to him and The Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him curled on the ground a few yards away chomping at something if the sound of tearing flesh is anything to go by. Not wanting to provoke anything, Peter lays back on the ground.  _ It is most likely intended for later and I am in no shape to facilitate a fight. _

  
  


After a few minutes of resting with his eyes closed, Peter hears a loud grumble and the feeling of something crisp rubbing against the side of his face. Peter snaps up, adrenaline pumping through his veins and again stirring more pain in his leg. He lets out a volley of curses before looking over to see the bundle of burnt meat shoved closer to him against the nose of The Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him staring at him with dark eyes.

  
  


Cautiously, Peter leans forward and places his good hand on the charred flesh. After a few moments of locked eyes, the Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him lets out a huff and nods its head before turning back to its own meat that now that Peter has a good look at is significantly less burnt. Peter sits down now, staring at the obvious offering but not feeling hungry again. 

  
  


“Are you trying to take care of me?”

  
  


The Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him’s eyes snapped up from its meal, staring at him intensely with no emotions able to be read past the swirling obsidian. With a pregnant pause between them, the Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him’s eyes snap away, darting towards the meat in front of Peter. Before Peter can attempt to interpret the gesture, it sharply points it jaw at Peter and then at the food as if to say ‘Eat it all ready’, but with a lot more cursing.

  
  


Refusing to overlook it, Peter inquires again, “Why are you taking care of me?”

  
  


Peter is struck dumb as the Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him shrugs.  _ Shrugs.  _ Peter’s mind starts firing off a volley of questions:  _ Can it understand me or was it just a coincidence? If it is an answer, what does that even mean? I didn’t even think dragons  _ could  _ shrug! _

  
  


But before Peter can voice any of the thoughts swirling in his head, the Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him gives one last pointed look between Peter and the charred meat before turning its back to him, happy to continue ripping open its own meal.

  
  


Clear that that’s the end of whatever that interchange was, Peter decides it might be worth it to just dig into the offering, no matter how inedible it is. At least the Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped him is trying to keep him alive.

  
  


For who knows what reason.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Peter sets his arm and leg, lements a lot, and The Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him gives him burnt meat (for who knows what reason - I do), might have responded to Peter with a shrug but dragon's are just animals who don't understand humans (right?), and pretty much tells him to fuck off with body language


	3. Maybe Not Bartholomew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally updated! It's a winter solstice miracle! 
> 
> In all seriousness, I'm hoping to finally get off my lazy ass and start updating regularly. This will be my new years resolution, but we'll see how it goes...
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Apparently it's a new running theme in Peter’s life to wake up in the worst position.

  


Instead of soaring through the air in the claws of the Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him, Peter wakes up to a hot snout pressed against his stomach.

  


The snout of the Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him.

  


Before Peter can make any move to acknowledge the Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him’s presence, he is gently being shifted onto the dragon’s back. It’s clear that the dragon isn’t used to riders as it jostles Peter around, giving him small cuts from its impossibly sharp scales. Peter’s good arm immediately creeps up to protect his face, cover his eyes from the scales he knows could gouge them out.

  


Before he can even get his hand all the way up, his forearm makes contact with something soft and plush that brushes against his skin slowly. Peter readjusts himself and nearly sends himself flying off of the Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him’s back.

  


Which is really high up.

  


Which is getting even higher up.

  


Peter flails around as the dragon effortlessly stands up and starts meandering into the woods. A strong wing snaps and pins Peter down to the fur lining the dragon’s back like a saddle, knocking the wind out of him.  Resigned to his new situation, Peter relaxes against the strong cords of muscles flexing under his back.

  


From his position, Peter can see the passing blur of trees. The only sounds are the firm pounding of the Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Him’s feet against the ground and animals scurrying off into the woods.

  


It’s actually kind of nice.

  
  
  
  


It’s maddening.

  


Peter feels like is skull is going to pop out of his head with the monotonous sound and feeling of nothing but trees in the wind and the steady of cadence of the dragon’s feet against the ground.

  


“It’s clear that you can’t talk, being a dragon and all, but if we’re going to spend this much time together, maybe I should stop referring to you as Dragon Who Fucking Kidnapped Me in my head? Got any suggestions.”

  


The silence floods in again the second Peter closes his mouth. The only thing giving it a minor reprieve is the snort from the dragon that Peter can feel run running across his back, the scales scratch against him.

 

“Right, I forgot. You’re a dragon and all,” Peter clicks his tongue as he thinks, not letting the silence seep back in, “How about Bartholomew?”

  


For a moment, Peter chuckles to himself before the dragon shakes him, jolting him out of his leisurely position. Peter has to quickly grip onto the skins underneath him, his shoulder groaning in pain, to avoiding slipping and quickly starts rushing out, “Okay, okay. I get it! Not Bartholomew! Can you calm down?”

  


The shaking finally stops as well as the pounding of feet. A strong wing readjusts him gently, making sure not to flare his injuries again. He is carefully arranged on the furs again, his leg propped up with the skins underneath him. Peter cautiously pats the wing as a gentle thanks.

  


Before Peter can get completely comfortable, the dragon (not Bartholomew)’s eyes snap around, focusing in on him hard. Peter freezes under the intense stare, pinned by the unreadable obsidian eyes honed in on him. There’s so much emotion in those eyes, both anger and happiness. Peter feels like he can see all death and destruction as well as unrestrained happiness and energy.

  


It’s overwhelming.

  


Peter feels like he’s drowning in it.

  


Slowly, Peter raises a hand to gently place on the tip of Wade’s snout, “I’m okay, okay dude? I promise, I’m doing just fine, Deadpool.”

  


The dragon stares at Peter for a second longer before closing his eyes, nudging his head further under Peter’s hand. The knight can’t help the laughter bubbling up in his chest, a smile spreading across his face as he leans forward to wrap his arms around the snout of the dragon.

  


His dragon.

  


Deadpool.

  


He’s finally got his own dragon. Peter can feel it, and he’s sure that Deadpool can feel it too.

  
  
  
  


After a few more moments of Peter smiling like a lunatic, Deadpool slowly tips his head down to easily slide it out from under Peter’s hand, almost hesitantly. Peter lays back down against the soft furs underneath him, completely content with the satisfaction from the newly formed bond running through him.

  


His eyes snap open, “Please tell me you felt it too.”

  


The dragon snorts, his head bobbing as he starts walking off into the forest again. Peter lays back down, looking up to the passing treetops. The silence seeps back in again, this time more comfortable, but Peter can’t help but fill it, “So, I’m thinking it would be awesome to make this a legit bond,” he’s met with another grunt

  


“So maybe you should learn a little more about me. I’m not usually a big talker. Actually, I’m  usually the opposite. I just hate silence. I’m used to the busy place and a busy house, so silence just doesn’t fit well for me. As you can probably tell by my endless ranting, but this is a one sided conversation so you can’t judge me. But, what do you want to know about me?”

  


Peter’s met with only silence and something that sounds like a hum but coming from a reptilian mouth.

  


“Okay, good conversation. I guess I can tell you about some of the people you’ll meet. You’ll probably spend a lot of time with Bucky, who’s Steve Rogers’ dragon. Rogers is the captain of my team and he’s a great guy, but don’t let his soldier presence scare you off, he’s a total softie.. When I first met him…”

  
  
  
  


_Peter bursts through the gates into the knights’ ground. His small stature easily weaves between the sparring bodies like a horse through the forest. A few passing questions glance off him, but most people choose to ignore him as he soaks in the sights as they pass in a blur._

  


_He stops dead in his track as he stands a few yards away from a powerful black dragon. Frantically, Peter stumbles backwards but trips over his own feet, falling hard on his butt. The dragon slowly approaches him, looking regal yet terrifying, causing Peter to skitter backwards kicking up dust._

  


_The dragon leans forward, nostrils flaring to take in the frightened boy before him, as Peter bites his bottom lip to hold back a shriek. Peter wants to look around, see if anyone cares enough to try to save his life, but he can’t break eye contact with the stern red eyes._

  


_Strong hands grab the back of his shirt, pulling him up until he’s standing. Peter frantically turns around, conflicted on whether he’s thankful to be saved from the beast before him or terrified of the punishment from being caught. Regardless, Peter starts frantically kicking his legs as he’s hoisted up into the air._

  


_He is turned to face serious, crystal blue eyes that assess him. A hard voice reaches down to his bone marrow, “And what, may I ask, are you doing here?”_

  


_Not able to form words with his eyes spread wide, Peter blinks owlishly at the stern man stood before him. He stammers out a few sounds, but is not able to bring himself to form a response. The man’s eyes squint harder at him, gently placing him on the ground, “Did you come to look at dragons?”_

  


_Peter stands petulantly, “I’ve seen more than enough dragons.”_

  


_“Than why did you come?”_

  


_Squaring his shoulders, trying to stand as tall as possible to intimidate the man in front of him, Peter proudly says, “I’m going to be a knight.”_

  


_A gentle smile spreads across the man’s face, “Not right now you aren’t. If you said you wanted to see dragons, I’d say you could watch me train, but I can’t in good conscience let you sit around dreaming of pick up a sword with so many lying around. Now go on, go back to wherever you’re supposed to be. I’m sure someone is off worrying about you.”_

  


_“I’d much rather sit here looking at real dragons than the ones in the books. They never get the naris right anyway.”_

  


_The man laughs with his arms still crossed, “Okay. If you can go get approval from whoever is doing the poor job of watching you, I’ll let you go through all of the bones and muscles of my dragon.”_

  


_“But, I think we can find a mutual-”_

  


_A firm hand grabs Peter’s shoulder again, but this time a much more thin and less calloused fingers. The stranger’s face hardens against as Peter peeks over his shoulder at his teacher’s red face, either from exhaustion or anger. Probably exhaustion if the heavy breathing is anything to go by._

  


_“What on earth were you thinking, Mr. Parker?”_

  


_Probably both._

  


_“I had to run all the way here. Again.”_

  


_Definitely both._

  


_Peter looks up, preparing to formulate a response, when the stranger steps forward, “Hello, I’m sorry that we haven’t met. I’m Steve Rogers, captain of the King’s platoon you see exercising right now. Mr. Parker here just came look for some real life dragons to study. I was just finishing up introducing him to Bucky here. I just thought it’d be better for him to learn hands on. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”_

  


_The teacher squints his eyes curiously, glancing back and forth between Peter and Captain Rogers before nodding, “If you think you can rangle this rascal, than be my guest. My, you do look offly young to be a captain.”_

  


_“Well, I just to happen to be good at rangling young rascals, so I don’t think this one will be too hard to add to the bunch. Now feel free to go on your way. I’ve got it from here.”_

  


_As the retreating form disappears into the mass of still sparring bodies, Peter looks up to Steve with wonder in his eyes, “You just got me out of trouble.”_

  


_“No, I simply moved your lessons to a place more suitable for your learning.”_

  


_“You’re my hero.”_

  


_All Peter can hear is warm laughter pouring over him as a strong hand claps him on the back, “Let’s get onto your memorization before you make me out to be a liar.”_

  
  
  
  


The dragon grumbles aloud at the end of the story, but Peter can barely even register it as he’s loss in his memories. His hands have aimlessly fallen over the edge of furs to brush against the scales, careful to only brush downwards in order to avoid any injuries. Peter lets out a long sigh as his long forgotten situation dawns on him.

  


“I need to get back to my team. I think you’ll really love them when you meet them because they’re the best. They can be assholes sometimes, but they’re great. I think we only have to head less than a day in this direction until we get to the capitol. We can start you training right away if you’d-”

  


Before Peter can even finish his thoughts, he’s been dumped on the ground. It doesn’t take long for Peter to realise where Deadpool has gone if the sound of crashing tree limbs are anything to go by.

  


The knight looks up from where he’s shielded himself behind his arms to see a whole in the overhang. As he moves to stand up, he looks down at his leg and mumbles, “At least my leg isn’t is feeling better.”

  


And he heads off into the woods with only his pack on.

  


Alone.


	4. Hot Damn Am I Bi

Peter would take being woken up in a horrible position every day over having to wander the woods without a single weapon.

  


Or even a giant ass dragon as protection.

  


Peter has been left to his own mind as he darts between the trees, heading in the direction he believes to be North towards the capitol. Although his eyes scan through the trees wary of any attackers, he’s been playing back the moments before Deadpool’s retreat in his mind. No matter how much time he’s spent thinking about it, and it’s been almost the entire day, he cannot think of a reason for Deadpool’s reaction.

  


Deadpool is clearly a smart dragon, almost seeming to understand Peter no matter how absurd it appeared. Maybe he was once a trained dragon and was skittish of returning to the capitol, having been trained to know what it meant.

  


Although it was a far leap, as Deadpool showed no signs of understanding basic commands such as keeping space or follow, it was the only thing that Peter could think of. Well, whatever it was, it has now left Peter utterly defenseless in an unknown part of the woods.

  


And now the sun is beginning to dip below the horizon.

  


Perfect.

  


Realizing he has to find shelter before night strikes, Peter starts to scan the trees more closely for inklings of shelter rather than quick sweeps for danger. His pace slows as well as his fatigue hits him, though his intensity never drops. He really needs to find an alcove. Quick.

  


As he’s darting through the trees, attempting to find a good site to settle in for the night, Peter can’t believe his luck when he finds a cave. There’s little around it suggesting animal activity, but it’s perfectly hidden amongst a series of fallen trees. He himself wouldn’t have noticed it if he wasn’t specifically looking for a good place to hole up. Although it looks unoccupied, Peter creeps toward it warily.

  


The moment he sees a faint light emanating from inside the cave, Peter’s fist reflexively snap up into their trained defensive positioning. He can’t help but mutter under his breath, “Shit.”

  


Not one to back down, Peter slowly creeps forward, on guard in the heightened chance of someone being inside. Hopefully they’re friendly and are willing to help Peter. Maybe it’s his crew. Maybe they’re someone from a nearby village that will be kind enough to escort him to the capitol, or even point him in the right direction.

  


Once Peter’s foot steps onto soft dirt rather than smooth grass, he gets a complete look at the inside of the shallow cave. He stops dead in his tracks.

  


Maybe it’s a naked guy bathing in the light of candles flickering, sporadically dispersed among mountains of miscellaneous objects, meaninglessly sorted at first glance.

  


Peter’s eyes track down the smooth slope of this person’s back, skin riddled in scars as it stretches over impressive muscle. He follows the path down to a round ass perfectly lit by the poor light sources, making it appear almost angelic.

  


_Hot damn am I bi._

  


It’s hard to see much more than that in the way that the stranger is curled up, but Peter can tell that this is no small person. They’re packing some serious heat, if the wide shoulders and bulging muscles are anything to go by. But that won’t deter Peter as the knightly code he’s trained to live by is always: approach as a friend but assume there’s an enemy.

  


The cave is growing uncomfortably warm as Peter ventures farther into it, but he’s not sure how much of that is the copious amounts of candles or the fact that there is an extremely attractive naked guy in front of him. Regardless, as he reaches the first pile of trinkets, only a handful of steps into the cave, sharp eyes immediately snap up to greet him.

  


Clearly this person is not human if the spiraling horns and reptilian, black eyes that Peter clearly missed earlier are any way to judge. Peter’s eyes trace patches of deep red and obsidian scales spread across the wide expanses of skin on display.

  


A _lot_ of skin on display.

  


Peter has little time more than that to process the sight in front of him before that body is lunging at him.

  


He would have been easily overtaken if not for his years of training having taught him to divert the lithe body over his head, guiding the shoulders and thighs as he ducks down. He tries to ignore the feeling of warm, naked skin against his palms as he shakes out the pain of where dagger like scales grated against him.

  


Shaking out the dull pain, Peter quickly pivots on the balls of his feet, falling into a defensive stance as he sees the _thing_ landing effortlessly on all fours, staring at him furiously. Peter can already tell that this is not going to be an easy fight.

  


The knight barely has time to side step and roll as dangerously sharp claws start swiping towards him. Peter can hear them slice the air next to his head but isn’t able to revel in the near miss before he gets in a quick round of punches against the newly exposed side. He smiles as he hears the attacker let out a quiet grunt in pain, and he feels proud of himself. Those long hours in the training room were worth it, it appears.

  


But his eyes widen immediately as he’s knocked back by a firm elbow against his temple. Peter stumbles backwards, shifting his feet underneath him until he’s gotten a firm footing. He looks up to see that the thing was also regaining his positioning, pressing against his freshly wounded side before his eyes narrowed. And from this position, Peter can clearly tell it is in fact a he.

  


Looking to change the pace, Peter sprints forward but shifts his back foot at the last possible moment, extending his leg in a roundhouse kick aimed at his target’s side. His leg is knocked back by a forearm, but it gives him the momentum for a series of kicks ranging from the attacker’s shoulder to his thigh. Most of them land solidly, but a fair amount were blocked by swift arm movements.

  


Before he can regain his defensive positioning, he’s knocked sideways by a fist planted in his gut. It would have knocked the air out of him, if it weren’t for his forearm held tight by his side in his defensive positioning. His extended leg drops down as he skids to the side, and the attacker looks at him firmly with his onyx eyes following his every breath. Peter’s eyes squint in confusion by the stare he’s trapped in.

  


Before he can completely process that strange interchange, Peter diverts a punch coming at him as reflex, not expecting the knee striking his exposed stomach. Peter is knocked backwards yet again, his back making contact with the hard cave wall. Peter’s arm snaps down to catch the knee lining up to strike again, and immediately makes eye contact with his attacker. They stare at each other in a stand still as Peter feels the leg in his grip struggling against him but he refuses to let go.

  


It’s almost awkward how long they stare at each other before Peter leans forward, getting a better look at the side slit, black pools of death in front of him. Peter’s eyes squint as he makes a leap, “Deadpool, is that you?”

  


“Took you long enough, you fuck face idiot.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is so short, but I'm getting an early heads start on my New Year's resolution which is to update more regularly so you'll almost definitely have stuff more regularly! 
> 
> Hopefully you liked it anyway!


	5. Daddy Deadpool is Here To Listen

“I’m sorry for trying to kill you.”

  


“I would say I’m sorry, but I try to live by a code of honesty.”

  


Peter glares at Deadpool. They had decided to sit together in the back of Deadpool’s cave on a blanket of skins in order to talk things out. Well, Peter decided this while Deadpool went along with minor push back. Peter pinches the bridge of his nose.

  


“Can you please remind me why you won’t cover up. _At all_.”

  


“I happen to be proud of my body, as opposed to your stifling societal norms. So maybe you just shouldn’t look at my junk and we’ll be just fine.” Peter lets out a huff before Deadpool adds, “You were just fine with it when I was a dragon.”

  


“There’s a big difference between a dragon’s sheath and your-” Peter gesticulates to Deadpool’s nether regions while looking up to the sky, “But whatever, we can just drop this.”

  


Looking pleased with himself, Deadpool reclined against the pile of trinkets behind him, putting himself on even more display. Peter rolled his eyes before quietly asking, “So what are you?”

  


Instead of the mature, inquisitive conversation Peter wants to have, Deadpool smirks as he says, “Extremely hot, naked, and down to fuck?”

  


Peter can’t restrain from face palming, “Not that. I meant … you’re clearly not human and not all dragon. I mean, I thought shifters were just myths, but clearly-”

  


Deadpool put his hands up to stop him with smoke curling out of his nose, “Woah, woah, woah. Well, that’s because the s-word is extremely offensive and we don’t take to that kind of language very kindly. How would you like it if I called you a frozen two leg?”

  


Even more confused than before, Peter’s eyebrows furrow, “Well, what should I call you then?”

  


“Daddy?” Deadpool’s grin brightened even further as Peter let out a groan in annoyance, “I cannot tell you how much delight it gives me to hear you groan after I tell you to call me daddy.”

  


Peter’s ears pinked as he closed his eyes, “Don’t twist the situation like that, you doofus. I mean like as a dragon sh- not fully dragon but not fully human.”

  


“Wow, you really manage to hit all of the offenses, don’t you? I’m not half _anything_ . You can call me a _full_ draeconus, but I doubt you’ll find many reasons to use it. No one will believe you.”

  


Anxiously, Peter looks down at his hands in his lap, muttering under his breath, “Well, I was hoping you’d come with me to the capitol.”

  


Deadpool quickly stands up, firmly walking to the opening of the cave, angrily throwing over his shoulder, “Why can’t you just let it go?”

  


Ready to follow wherever Deadpool is darting off to, Peter stands up and takes a step forward, but Deadpool stops him as he whips around. Peter puts his hands in front of him soothingly, “You don’t have to go with me. I know- it’s clear that you aren’t the biggest fan of the capitol, which I totally understand, and I wouldn’t want to force you into any situation you don’t want. I’m sorry for bringing it up again, but can we please keep talking. I liked it. I like it.”

  


“Okay, okay,” Deadpool takes a deep breath before walking past Peter with his eyes focused on the ground. He sits back in his same position on the ground before looking at Peter again, “Okay.”

  


“So we’re okay?”

  


“If I haven’t said it enough already, okay,” Peter smiles at Deadpool’s wry smirk before it transforms into something else, “Can we just drop this?”

  


Deadpool looks uncomfortable, a complete contrast to his earlier bravado. Peter reaches out a hand to place it on his knee, trying to avoid thinking about his naked junk, before softly saying, “Yeah, we can.”

  


“Do you want to talk about your daddy kink? Daddy Deadpool is here to listen.”

  


Deadpool leans forward, looking absolutely ecstatic while Peter flushes bright pink. He covers his face with a hand, “Deadpool! I do not have a - a _daddy_ kink. Please do not project your - your _desires_ on me.”

  


“Oh baby boy, denial only makes it worse.”

  


With a biting tone, Peter smirks as he retorts, “Are you speaking from experience?”

  


“You don’t even know how much experience I have, baby boy. Isn’t that what makes the daddy kink so hot?”

  


Peter looks hard at Deadpool’s face, tracing the path of the translucent, shaded scales and curving horns. He feels dumb thinking about how long it took him to realize it was Deadpool because look at him now he looks identical, just reshaped. Peter can’t help but notice the strong jaw that is almost as intimidating as Deadpool’s dragon form, as well as the all consuming black eyes that Peter could never forget. With a smile, Peter confidently states, “You can’t be that much older than me.”

  


“I’m at least six times older than you, but believe whatever you want to. Age doesn’t always mean experience, baby.”

  


Trying to avoid analyzing the wink Deadpool throws him, Peter asks in a huff, “Why do you keep calling me, baby?”

  


“Why do you keep asking questions?”

  


“Because you confuse me.”

  


“Well you intrigue me. Hence, baby.”

  


“How, exactly, do I intrigue you?”

  


“You got a bodacious body, rocking ass, and look adorable when your blush dips below your armor.”

  


“Is sex all you have on your mind?”

  


“Mostly, when I’m with you,” Peter’s blush gets even brighter as Deadpool eyes him up and down, licking his lips, “Want to make thoughts into actions?”

  


Peter wrings his hands nervously, refusing to make eye contact with the intense obsidian in front of him, “Wouldn’t that be bestiality or something?”

  


“Are you calling me an animal?”

  


Deadpool’s voice is completely offended, taken aback and Peter looks at him with confusion. Nervousness rubs against Peter’s skin like coarse sand stuck in his clothes. He fidgets uncomfortably, “Well, you like half dragon which means I could be arrested … I think?”

  


Fury fills where confusion used to be as Deadpool spits out, “I am half _nothing_ . I am _full_ draeconus. Why can’t you get that through your thin skull? If you want to use your archaic societal views to shield yourself from wanting to fuck me, then feel free, but you will _not_ insult my kind in the process. I don’t care if-”

  


His rant fizzles out as Peter lunges forward to kiss him, knocking Deadpool back in the process. When they seperate, Deadpool looks up at Peter with wide eyes. Peter leans back, scared that he made the wrong choice, before the burgundy scales on the corner of Deadpool’s eyes crinkle as his lips pull back in a smile, showing rows of sharpened teeth.

  


“I’m sorry,” Peter tries to get out the apology but is cut short by Deadpool placing another chaste kiss against his lips. Rolling with the impulse, Peter teases, “ _Daddy_.”

  


Deadpool leans back and lets out a loud chuckle that makes Peter’s stomach feel warm, “I haven’t even gotten started yet, baby boy.”

  


Peter laughs as he drops his head onto Deadpool’s warm, bare chest. No matter how turned on he is by the breath taking creature in front of him, Peter can’t let that stifling cliche pass by without mocking. Peter looks up to him and smiles, “You are ridiculous.”

  


Instead of a witty reply, Deadpool’s calloused hands trace paths all over Peter’s body, starting to fidget with the buckles of his armor. From years of practice, Peter efficiently undoes every latch as Deadpool carefully places each piece of armor to the side, watching in awe. Quickly, Peter undoes the shirt underneath as well, exposing his naked chest to the room.

  


Or more specifically Deadpool.

  


Whose lips pull back in a cheshire smile, showing rows of intimidatingly sharp teeth.

  


“Call me Wade.”

  


Peter blinks at Deadpool in confusion, still clutching his shirt in his hands, “What?”

  


“If we’re going to do this, you should call me Wade. Or daddy. I’m not picky.”

  


A smile spreads across Peter’s face to match Wade’s, sliding a hand down his chest, “Does that mean Daddy in your shif- dragonus language?”

  


Deadpool - Wade beams at Peter’s self correction, “No, it’s my name, asshole.”

  


“Well, nice to meet you, Wade. Now, can you please let me go so I can take off my pants?”

  


Wade laughs as he retracts his hands from their firm position on Peter’s waist, letting him shuffle back to shimmy out of his pants after removing the rest of his armor. Before he’s even completely out of his pants, Wade grabs him around the waist to pull Peter onto his lap.

  


Peter can’t help but chuckle before he grabs both sides of Wade’s face to give him a deep kiss, with tongue and all the good stuff. It’s almost comfortable how normal it feels to have his hands on Wade’s strong jaw and tongue moving against his. He knows this was all started with the intent to actually fuck, but he’s more than happy to stay like this forever. His dick has something else to say about it though.

  


Nearly jumping out of his skin, Peter is surprised when Wade’s wet hand slips down to wrap around both of their leaking dicks, mixing precum and saliva to make a smooth glide. He slowly jacks them together, setting a leisurely speed as their kiss remains languid yet heated. Peter can’t hold himself back from making little thrusts into the heat, loving the feeling of another cock against his. Peter would never call himself experienced although this is not his first time around, but this is by far the most sensual thing he has ever experienced.

  


In an almost embarrassingly short time, they’re both coming. The kiss breaks as it turns into quiet moans and grunts into each others mouths, that was admittedly much hotter than it should be. Wade leans forward to peck a chaste kiss against Peter’s lips once they are both done making post-orgasmic thrusts against each other.

  


Wade gently guides them both to lay on the bundle of furs and Peter smiles as he’s spooned. He wiggles a bit at the tacky feeling of cum coating his stomach, realizing that it will most likely be stuck to his back if he lets Wade properly spoon him. He gently smacks Wade’s arm slung over him, “You better not get cum on my back.”

  


Letting out a grunt in acknowledgement, Wade cleans off the cum on his stomach with his hand before wiping it off on the scattered cloth nearby, most likely for this exact purpose. Instead of arguing, Peter lets out a deep breath in annoyance and succumbs to the sleep tugging at his eyelids.

  


He’s never been more comfortable.


	6. Like Changing Clothes

Peter wakes up in the most comfortable position he’s been in for the longest time: completely wrapped by a firm, naked figure that emanates the perfect amount of warmth.

  


As Peter flickers in that strange state of mind between consciousness and sleep, Deadpool - no, Wade nuzzled his nose against Peter’s neck. The knight lets his eyes slip shut in the all consuming comfort, before Wade let a huff of smoke that slightly burnt Peter’s neck.

  


Gasping, Peter sat bolt right in an instant, startling Wade awake who nuzzles into his waist. Mildly shocked, Peter pets the back of Wade’s head, thinking back on the events of the night before.

  


Consumed by thoughts, Peter runs a hand through his hair. He still can’t completely believe what happened. Somehow he’s found himself bonded to a shift- draeconus that, as far as he knew before this, were only myths. Is this even real? Why hasn’t he heard anything about it? Can he even trust this man?

 

Looking down at the man nuzzling into his lap, careful of his inhuman horns, while casually relighting a candle in front of him with his breath, Peter immediately feels bad for his doubtful thoughts - though it is still hard for him to wrap his head around. Peter smiles hesitantly as Wade kisses his thigh, “Can I see you shi- what would you like me to call when you go between human form and dragon form?”

  


Wade pecks the inside of his thigh again before looking up at Peter beaming, answering softly, “You can call it shifting.”

  


Peter lets out a deep breath as he caresses Wade’s cheek, “Can you show me what you look like shifting?”

  


“Why, baby boy?”

  


“I just- I want to see it. I just don’t know if I can completely wrap my head around it until I see it. In person.” When he sees Wade’s eyes widening, Peter frantically starts backtracking, “You don’t have to. I completely get it if it’s like a private thing or something. Please don’t feel obli-”

  


“Okay.”

  


Peter looks back down at him assessingly before hesitantly asking, “Okay?”

  


“Yeah, okay.” They smile at each other as Wade sits up, giving Peter a proper kiss on the lips, “But first, let’s get some breakfast.”

  


“What, trying to subject me to more of your terribly burnt cooking?”

  


“Hey! What if that was my draeconius way of trying to court you? Are you trying to insult my entire culture?”

  


Peter’s eyebrows furrow in worry and apology, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just thought-”

  


All of Peter’s anguish washes away as Wade leans back and laughs, “I’m just fucking with you. If I was trying to court you, I would have brought you a salve to heal faster, not all slow like a human.”

  


“Hey! Humans heal just fine! It only took me a few days to set me leg and even less for my shoulder, so you can back off.”

  


“With my fucking orgasmic courting salve it would have taken hours, like a proper draeconus.”

  


“Is that what you’d want me to be? A draeconus? Can you only court a draeconus?”

  


Wade shrugs, “Like I said, your kind has stifling societal norms. We care a little less about differentiating, but there’s limits, of course. You can’t go around fucking a bird, but humans and dragons are cool.”

  


“Wait, why aren’t you with other draeconus than?” Peter regrets it the second it left his mouth. No matter what species a person is, that is not a cool question to ask. Wade immediately tenses up, breaking eye contact for the first time since they started their conversation. Peter puts a hand on his knee, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer.”

  


“It’s fine. No one wants draeconae, so we’re supposed to be raised by our parents, but I’m what happens when even they don’t want you. Little, old fucked up Wade.”

  


“Well, if you want, you can come to the capitol with me. We have a bond so I can train you like a dragon and then-”

  


“And how exactly do you expect that to go over?”

  


Peter’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, and Peter is beginning to wonder if they’re going to get stuck that way from how often he’s been doing it, “What?”

  


“If I could blend in with dragons, do you think I would be out here all alone? If I could go over _at all_ with humans, do you think I would be out here. All. _Alone_?”

  


“Well, I-”

  


“Peter,” The aforementioned man’s mouth snaps shut as he looks in Wade’s fiery eyes, “I have been chased out of more towns than years you’ve been alive, baby boy. I always think this one is going to be different or maybe they won’t want to murder or maybe they won’t be fucking closed mind bigots, but guess what - they always fucking are. If you bring me back to your precious capitol, you will only get chased out with me.”

  


Wade looks at him seriously, crossing his arms once he’s finished. Peter cautiously raises his hand, and Wade chuckles as he gestures for him to talk. Peter smiles, “Oh, am I allowed to talk now?”

  


“Not if you’re going to be a little bitch about it.”

  


“I’ll try my best not to.” Peter laughs as Wade kisses him on the forehead, “I understand that you’ve been hurt in the past, and I never plan to add to that. I would never try to hurt you Wade. I know our bond is new so it’s pretty sporadic, but it’s strong. I know you can feel it.”

  


“Just because we’re bonded and we jizzed on each other doesn’t mean we’re soul mates.”

  


“I know. I’m not that delusional, but that doesn’t mean that it’s not strong. Cities don’t treat you well, but you won’t be in the heart of one. If you come as my dragon, you can stay in the stables during the day when we’re not training and come up to sleep with me at night.”

  


“Mighty assumptious of you, baby boy.”

  


Peter laughs as he leans in to kiss Wade’s neck, “Is it?”

  


Threading his fingers through Peter’s hair, Wade joins him in laughter, “Is that your plan? Convincing me with promises of sex?”

  


“Is it working?”

  


“Maybe,” The laugh together as they trade quick pecks. Wade looks at Peter hesitantly, “Do you really think it would work?”

  


“I would be more than happy to run away with you if it didn’t, but I highly doubt it would come to that.”

  


“I’ll need to think on it-”

  


“Of course.”

  


“So I’ll go get us some breakfast, and then I promised you a strip show.”

  


“I’m not entirely sure that’s what we agreed upon.”

  


Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before he slinks into the woods.

  
  
  
  


Breakfast was, as every meal always is with Deadpool, burnt. Peter eats it regardless and doesn’t question why Wade showed up _as_ Deadpool. Instead, he simply props his arm on Deadpool’s snout as he rips into the extremely burnt meat.

  


Once he’s done, Peter pecks the center of Deadpool’s snout, moving so that he’s kneeling in front of him, staring into his blank eyes, “So, you going to come back to me, Wade?”

  


Deadpool tilts his head to the side, almost looking like he’s trying to urge Peter. He blinks at the dragon for a second before he groans, looking towards the sky. He smiles though as he says, refusing to make eye contact, “Daddy?”

  


The dragon attempts to smile but it doesn’t quite fit - pulling back his upper lip to reveal sharpened, uneven teeth that look alarmingly similar to the human form.

  


Peter starts to chuckle before all of the air is forced out of his breath.

  


Taut muscles underneath rippling scales are pulled inwards, twisted almost gruesomely as the bones shift below the surface. Peter’s eyes widen in shock as the skin seamlessly transitions from burgundy to Wade’s usual tanned flesh tone; scales fold downward until they smooth out into skin. The formidable snout is crushed in like folded metal and melts completely as it transforms into an angular human face. The horns are the only thing that stay the same but they’re pulled in towards a skull a third of the size it used to be. Dagger like claws are retracted into newly formed hands like a knife being sheathed.

  


That’s how it all looks - like a danger being masked.

  


It only takes a few seconds, but it feels like Peter’s whole world has been turned upside down. He swallows down the vomit pushing against his throat.

  


Wade steps forward once the shift is complete to comfort the clearly distressed Peter, but the knight fights the urge to retreat backwards in fear. He covers his mouth as he makes eye contact with the new form in front of him.

  


The eyes are the same.

  


They’re always the same.

  


Holding everything Peter could ever dream of seeing.

  


Peter takes a deep breath to center himself before sorrowfully saying, “I’m so sorry. I just- I- I’ve never seen anything like that. I think it’s something I’d need to get used to. What does that even _feel_ like?”

  


“Like changing my clothes,” Peter looks at him disbelievingly but Wade shrugs, “But with a thousand knives hidden in it so they scrap against my naked skin. You get used to it though.”

  


Peter looks at him in awe, “How did I get bonded to someone so resilient?”

  


A large grin spreads across Wade’s face as he gently rests his forehead against Peter’s, “I’ll go with you to the capitol.”

  


“Are you sure?”

  


“I’m sure.”


	7. It's Painfully Heterosexual

Where waking up in horrible positions used to be, montage moments of walking in identical woods is now.

  
  


Well, Deadpool is the one who’s walking while Peter rides his back with the blanket of furs like a saddle. Peter fills time by telling Deadpool stories of his life: Steve’s habit of waking up early to wash Bucky at sunrise before pushing each other’s limits hard in training, Peter’s pranks to completely infuriate his teachers when he was in school, or which foods to avoid in the Southern lands because they taste like they actually contain dirt. He sometimes even tells him basic tricks he’ll need to know as a knight’s steed like back up, come to, respect space, and changing speed, all to which Deadpool huffs smoke in a mixture of annoyance and humor. It’s nice to chatter to fill the silence, now knowing that Deadpool can actually understand him.

  
  


Peter can tell that they’re getting closer to the city, if the thinning of woods and smoke in the distance is anything to by. He informs Deadpool of this, who tenses but his pace doesn’t falter as he continues to head in the proper direction. Peter leans over to pat the side of his neck reassuringly.

  
  


Maybe more stories will distract him.

  
  
  
  
  


Before they even come to a populated area, Peter hears the clear bleating of an army horn. He clamps his mouth shut in the middle of regaling Deadpool on the different types of saddles he can choose from, varying in embellishment or material or style, and gently rubs Deadpool’s temples when he feels him tense again. 

  
  


Peter quietly asks him to halt as he slides off, standing at attention to Deadpool’s left. He gently pats Deadpool’s hind quarters, prompting him to sit. The knight is both comforted and made slightly anxious by the quickly approaching sound of clawed feet pounding against the forest ground.

  
  


A hunting party of knights on dragon back circle them quickly and efficiently. As they circle gradually slows down, Peter realizes it is mostly  _ his  _ hunting party, as well as a some that he simply recognizes from the barracks. Peter is reassured completely when his Captain pulls his dragon to a stop directly in front of him.

  
  


Peter continues to rub Deadpool’s neck as he tenses yet again, feeling like a mountain of coiled muscles. He smiles though as he makes eye contact with Steve, waving amicably, “Hey there, Captain. Did you miss me?”

  
  


Sir Steve Rogers smiles from his position upon his own dragon but doesn’t close the gap between them, “It’s good to see you, kid.”

  
  


“Would you mind guiding us to the capitol. I seem to be a little lost.”

  
  


Many around him chuckle at Peter’s dry humor, but Steve’s face stays the same, although it does stay graceful and amicable. Peter smiles when Thor responds, rather than Steve, “Do you return to us with a companion, young Peter?”

  
  


Not realizing how homesick he was, Peter can’t help but feel at ease hearing his friend’s voice again. He gently pats Deadpool’s jaw, looking at him proudly, “Yeah. His name’s Deadpool.”

  
  


Thor bursts into booming laughter as Steve’s facade breaks into a smile. The captain addresses him this time, “Is he trained?”

  
  


“Yeah. Actually, let me rephrase that - he has a whole, human like conscious so he understands what I’m saying so I haven’t really needed to train him because he just does what I ask him to. He also can transform into a human.”

  
  


The whole party is stunned into silence for a moment, before bursting into laughter. 

  
  


Steve’s face is tight in the way, that Peter has learned from years of pestering, showing that his mentor is trying to hold back the urge to roll his eyes, “Thank you for your wonderful story, Peter. Now, can you please give me an honest answer?”

  
  


Beaming, Peter pats Deadpool’s neck confidently. He effortlessly kicks off the ground, swinging his leg over the dragon’s back so he sits astride his bonded. The party stares in unabashed wonder as Peter sits on the giant ass dragon. Deadpool dwarfs even Bucky, who is-  _ used  _ to be the biggest dragon in the whole capitol.

  
  


Easily, he taps the right side of Deadpool’s neck, commanding, “Stand.”

  
  


Immediately, Deadpool lifts on to all four legs, rising to his full height. Almost all the soldiers lean back in their seats, but the dragons they’re riding refuse to budge as they dip their heads in respect to the imposing figure in front of them. Peter beams as he wraps his arms around Deadpool’s neck with love and pride. 

  
  


Steve looks at him skeptically, “So, you trained this dragon in under a week?”

  
  


“He’s really smart.”

  
  


Still not looking pleased, Steve inquires further, “Are you bonded?”

  
  


Peter continues to pet Deadpool’s side lovingly, “Yes.”

  
  


With a nod, Steve turns Bucky around in a tight circle before announcing over his shoulder, “Okay then. Let’s bring you home.”

  
  


Without any other preamble, the hunting party breaks the circle like a snake before fan out into the woods as Peter beams on his newly accepted dragon.

  
  
  
  
  


It’s reassuring for Peter to see the trees slowly bleed into villages and market places. He smiles and waves at passing children as they marvel at Deadpool. He would let them pet him if the dragon didn’t snort smoke at them each time they approached.

  
  


Clearly, the crowds do not have the same effect on Wade though as he remains tense the entire way or paces if they ever come to a stop. He only eats small portions of the food as they approach the capitol, and only after Peter gently urges him to for multiple minutes. It’s only a two day journey, but Peter can feel the stress build in his companion.

  
  
  
  
  


Peter beams when they finally make it to the capitol.

  
  


He can feel it before he even sees it. If he closes his eyes, he can remember darting around the outskirts of their parameters as a child and scouting them after he was knighted. Peter is excited to do it once, but this time with a mighty dragon by his side. A bonded dragon. Wade.

  
  


The hunting party is met in the streets with cheering and endless applause. The people keep a safe distance away from the dragons so as not to spook them but proud and inquisitive eyes appraise them as they pass. Many people flood out of their homes to watch the fully suited knights harold in a new dragon to their ranks.

  
  


Mother’s hold cheering children who wave at the dragons and giggle when they turn their heads to acknowledge them. Many young women snicker as they appreciate the knights passing by, some even swooning when a knight throws a glance in their general direction. And even the young men playfully push each other as they vy for Madam Romanoff and Madam Maximoff attention. It’s painfully heterosexual, if Peter is going to be honest.

  
  


Peter waves his acknowledgement his own fair share when people call out his name and throw their adornment in his direction. He places most of his attention though on calming down Deadpool when the crowd surges to close or when they grow to loud. Although dragons are not a strange sight, especially not in the capitol, many don’t understand their sensitivity to crowds. Especially new ones. 

  
  


Especially a draeconus. 

  
  
  
  
  


The parade through the capitol feels like it takes days, but in all actuality, it most likely took minutes. Once they get to the gates of the palace, Peter lets out a long sigh. He slides off of Deadpool’s back and gently guides him in with a hand on his neck. 

  
  


The gates close behind them in a resounding bang once the last of the party comes in. At the top of the ornate stairs leading the palace stands King Tony of the Stark house in his usual over the top robes stitched with red and gold. The party all drops into a bow before the king, who waves it away as usual. He beams though as his eyes land on Peter, “I’m so glad your home.”

  
  


Peter can feel Deadpool tense underneath him as King Tony quickly walks down the stairs towards him. The knight slips off without a word as he embraces the king in a tight hug, almost feeling tears spring to his eyes. Peter hears a huff behind him, almost sounding inquisitive, but he can’t say anything before King Tony pulls back to glare at him, “Don’t ever scare me like that again. I already lost Pepper. I can’t lose you too.”

  
  


Mixed feelings of relief and sorrow drowns Peter as he softly says, “Sorry. I’ll try not to do that again, pops.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand this is the last of my pre-prepared chapters. 
> 
> I will most likely keep to the schedule as best as I can, but shit hits the fan sometimes so we'll play it by ear! At most it will be a day late, which I hope will be okay! 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading this far and hope you enjoyed the plot twist <3


	8. What the Actual Fuck?!

“What the actual fuck Peter?!”

  


Wade flew into Peter’s room once the whole castle was clearly asleep, and has nonstop been talking his ear off. Peter does feels bad about not telling him earlier about being a prince and all, but he hasn’t been able to get in a word edgewise. Wade has just been saying the same phrase on repeat whenever he opens his mouth.

  


“Wade, I-”

  


“What the actual _fuck_ Peter?!”

  


Like that.

  


Letting out a deep sigh, Peter walks over to Wade and grabs either side of his face, planting a firm kiss on to his lips. He smiles when he breaks it and sucks in a big breath, “Can I talk now?”

  


A sharp smirk spreads across Wade’s face, almost looking animalistic, “What did I say about leading me with promises of sex?”

  


“That it would probably work?”

  


“That I did.”

  


Wade slowly slinks forward, like a predator about to ensnare its prey, but Peter put a warning hand out in front of him, “I really want to talk this out though, Wade. I’m sorry for not telling you. It was manipulative and wrong of me to hide this very important fact. I’d understand if you wanted to leave.”

  


Looking a little put out, Wade takes a step back, “Do you want me to leave?”

  


Peter tries to stutter out a response but can’t meet Wade’s eyes, “I - I want- you should do what’s best for you, whether that is staying or leaving.”

  


Shocked, Peter is forced to make eye contact when Wade’s sure fingers tuck under his chin tipping his head up. Peter sucks in a breath when he feels Wade’s breath against his lips, “That’s not what I asked.”

  


Coming out more as a nervous chuckle, Peter looks away, “I know. I just don’t want you to feel forced to make any decision. You have complete free will here, Wade.”

  


“So you _want_ me to leave?”

  


Wade takes a few steps backwards, but Peter immediately fills the space, “No. I want you to stay by my side forever because you are an asshole in the best way and incredibly sexy and funny and snarky and I think we could have the best bond that any one has ever seen and I think we could have the best times in an actual bed that has lube and stuff and please shut me up before I say anything else embarrassing.”

  


The anxiety rushes out of Peter as Wade laughs at him, wrapping him in a hug, “Please tell me more about all the things you want to do to me in this bed.”

  


“As of right now I want to kick you out.” When Wade takes a nervous step back, Peter pulls him back to him, “Because you’re being an adorable asshole, not because I don’t want you here.”

  


“Well, I think we could be doing a lot more fun things than misunderstanding each other.”

  


“You’re right,” Peter leans forward to playfully nip at Wade’s bottom lip and darting towards the bed. Peter throws a teasing wink over his shoulder before slipping out of his shirt, causing Wade to groan and leap forward to wrap his arms around his hips, kissing lines down his exposed throat. Peter laughs as he breathlessly says, “Let’s go to sleep.”

  


“Like sex?”

  


“Like sleep. I’m tired.”

  


Wade grumbles as he wordlessly spoons behind Peter’s already prone form. He would never let the facade of disgruntlement fall, but he can’t be anything but content when his arms wrap around his human. His prince.

  
  
  
  


“If I’m going to ride you,” Peter is interrupted by Deadpool’s snort, “We’re going to need a good saddle.”

  


The bonded two stand in the middle of the sparring grounds, looking at a row of saddles of varying sizes and styles. Peter can’t help but smile at Deadpool’s childish sense of humor, even if he got strange looks from surrounding knights.

  


Shaking his head to hide his reaction, Peter gently runs his hands over all of the finely made saddles. He’s not sure if he wants the support but added weight of the Western saddles or the weightless yet unstable effect of the Shengl saddles. Then he has to take into the consideration the fork, the weight, or the seat.

  


Peter’s overwhelmed with the amount of choices before he feels a sure hand land on his shoulder before a finger darts out to point out a certain light brown saddle. Peter looks up to his captain who smiles at him warmly, “You should go with this one. The saddle is made for endurance with the heavy seat but is still lightweight enough with no horn or skirt. It will be a good start for a wild dragon.”

  


Captain Steve Rogers grabs the aforementioned saddle easily and drops it in Peter’s awaiting arms. The prince grabs it and swings it over to the pad already placed on Deadpool’s back, making sure it lands gently on the already anxious dragon’s back. He patiently starts adjusting the girth, making sure to ease Deadpool into the strange pinch. Slipping on the bit is no easy feat, but after a bit of goading and whispered promises, Deadpool finally opens his mouth to let it slip in behind his teeth.

  


After Peter’s sure that the saddle is properly placed and not too tight, Peter effortlessly swings over to land on Deadpool’s back. He grabs the reins slowly, making sure not to pull on Deadpool’s mouth too harshly. The prince waits a moment to get acclimated to the new position, letting Deadpool do the same.

  


Feeling comfortable in the moment, Peter nudges his hips forward and clicks his tongue, asking Deadpool to slowly start moving forward. Only half understanding the request, Deadpool takes a handful of awkward steps, but bucks when the saddle presses harshly against his back. Peter reaches for the nonexistent horn, and instead goes flying across the training ground.

  


When he finally lands, Peter groans as he rolls over onto his side. He moves over to sit up, only to make eye contact with a mildly amused Steve sitting upon a perfectly positioned Bucky. Peter lets out another volley of groans.

  


Apparently he’s back to the groaning again.

  


Peter pushes off the ground and walks towards his dragon, who drops his head. Peter laughs as he pats Deadpool’s snout that is nuzzling roughly against his neck, nearly knocking him over. He gently rubs his face to quietly ask, “Is the saddle too small?”

  


The knight laughs again when he feels Deadpool’s head nudge against him in a nod. Feeling like he should get as much information out as possible, Peter inquires further “Was it the right weight though?”

  


Deadpool shakes his head this time, careful with his horns. Peter gently rubs his snout, thinking, “Do you want a lighter one?”

  


Feeling a nod again, Peter pats his dragon’s snout before stepping back to undo the saddle, switching it out for one with a lighter seat and the absolute minimum amount of additions, besides a horn this time. The one that fits all of the new requirements is pitch black which causes Peter to smile. It’s perfect.

  


Quickly, Peter finishes his set up and climbs up onto Deadpool. He does the same hip nudge and Deadpool strides forward easily, although still hesitantly. Peter smiles as he gently guides his dragon around a little to get comfortable, but the world exponentially starts to shift.

  


Peter only has a moment to grab the horn and release the reins before the saddle completely flips over. Deadpool thankfully comes to a stop before Peter can really get hurt.

  


Besides his pride, of course.

  


Rolling out from under the dragon, Peter makes eye contact with a quietly snickering Steve. Peter sits up slowly to make sure Deadpool has enough room before looking at Steve for help, “Is it the wrong size again?”

  


Steve takes a hesitant step forward before gently trailing his arms along Deadpool’s side to let him know he’s there. Hesitantly, he slips his fingers underneath the girth to check the tightness, only to have his whole hand slip underneath. Steve laughs at Peter’s face of surprise, “I think it just might be a different problem.”

  


Feeling properly chastised, Peter tightens the girth, triple checking that he doesn’t make the same mistake. Climbing up for the third time, Peter feels confident as he urges Deadpool to move forward. It’s almost astonishing how easy the ride is now.

  


The captain looks on in wonder as his team member easily rides the wild dragon. Their bond must be impossibly strong and natural if, even after a few hiccups, they can ride this easily. Deadpool follows Peter’s commands without even a second thought about having to learn them.

  


Steve continues his assessment when he asks, “Are you sure he was completely wild when you found him? He seems to know all of your commands.”

  


Peter absentmindedly leans forward to praise Deadpool, “It’s possible. How would we know?”

  


Thinking on it for a moment, Steve shrugs, “I guess we wouldn’t.”

  


Continuing to hug his exceling dragon, feeling spurred on by the success, Peter asks, “Do you think he’s ready to spar?”

  


“Maybe tomorrow. I don’t think it’s a good idea to push him too much, even if he is doing this well. Why don’t you take him around for a ride to make sure that you guys are truly, completely comfortable?”

  


Nodding easily, Peter pulls his right rein and pushes his left leg in gently to support the turn, “Sounds like a good plan. Will you be joining me?”

  


Captain Rogers looks down at his dragon for a moment, then sweeps his gaze over the training knights before nodding with a smile, “That sounds nice.”

  
  
  


The companions easily slip through the backstreets of the palace to a private section of the woods that is well trodden from leisurely walks just like this one. Their walk is easy and the two are able to fall into gentle conversation, even as the two dragons playfully nip at each other. Steve smiles as Deadpool blows a smoke ring that temporarily blinds Bucky for only a moment. The captain gently pats his dragon’s neck as he turns to Peter, “So where did you even find this dragon?”

  


“He actually came to me the first night and stuck with me ever since.”

  


Steve chuckles, “That’s so amazing, but what about his-”

  


“You couldn’t have been planning to leave without us.”

  


The two leaders turn around to see Clint trotting up on his dragon Nat. It’s almost startling to see the size difference between the lean, small dragon and the two humongous ones. She’s a beauty though, as she looks more like a snake from her thin frame and beautiful patterns of red twisted with white on her black base scales. Nat is the smallest dragon on the team, only contended by Loki who only has length but not heft on her.

  


Peter smiles as he turns to acknowledge the newcomer to their leisurely stroll. The prince tips his head, “Did anyone else join you?”

  


Clint scoffs jokingly, “Nat and I are the masters of subterfuge. What kind of amateurs do you think we are?”

  


Steve’s eyes glimmer as he gestures with his chin towards Thor, Bruce, and Wanda stroll up together. Peter can’t hold back his laughter at Clint’s crestfallen face when the rest of the team appears on their dragon to join the impromptu party. Peter waves at them excitedly, “What are you guys up to?”

  


Thor’s laugh booms as he responds, “Did you think you were so subtle to slip by without notice?”

  


Wanda quietly interjects as she strolls up next to Peter on Pietro, “We wanted to see the protegetic dragon we’ve heard so much about.”

  


Peter laughs as he pets Deadpool who is taking in his new herd. All of the dragon’s look on assessingly, snorting smoke at him but ultimately inclining their heads in acknowledgement. Captain responds instead of the prince to Wanda’s compliment though, “He really is something special, you know.”

  


Swelling with pride, Peter continues to stroke along Deadpool’s neck as they continue along. Thor surprises him when he comes up behind, slapping him hard across the back, “It took me years to get Loki to follow my command enough to let me walk him without complete guidance on the reins.”

  


The whole party bursts into laughter when Clint quips, “That’s because you had to go and pick the most rebellious dragon you could find.”

  


And Peter is reminded of how much he’s missed his party in only the few weeks he’d been gone. The day dissolves into nothing more than casual banter and leisurely walks with dragons, strengthening not only the team’s bond but each rider’s bond with their dragon.

  


Peter and Wade are home.


	9. Let's Knock Them On Their Asses

The days continue like that: figuring out their dragon/rider relationship through drills and practices, late nights snuck together wrapped in warmth and each other’s arms, and hours on end spent bonding with their team.

  
  


Once Captain Rogers deems Deadpool ready to spar, Peter can feel the excited energy exuding from his dragon. Deadpool has spent every moment from when he’s joined the team teasing Bucky, blowing smoke rings that the other simply dismisses with his snout or even nipping at him when he’s not paying attention, causing him to be leveled with a heavy glare. Peter knows from late night conversations that Wade is so excited to fight the other dragon.

  
  


Getting into the ring is a little harder than Peter or Wade had originally thought though as Captain Rogers did not want either of them getting hurt, seeing as Wade is a new dragon. Steve makes sure that Peter is properly outfitted with armor and padding and Deadpool is covered in a salve to protect him, while the captain and his dragon sit confidently with no protection besides a base padding. Peter mumbles under his breath, so only Deadpool can hear, “Let’s knock them on their asses.”

  
  


A snickering ring of smoke is his only response as he mounts his stead, waiting for his captain’s signal. The second it’s given, Deadpool is leaping forward with Peter throwing his body with the flow behind him. The other pair, especially Steve, is surprised at the speed and ferocity as Deadpool slams into Bucky’s side, shoving him even further backwards with his horns. 

  
  


After the first hit blindsides the older pair, the sparring equals out as Deadpool’s size advantage is negated by Steve and Bucky’s experience together. Dagger sharp claws rip into armor, but pull back before breaking hide. They tumble against each other fluidly without landing any ending blows, while the riders hang on to their reins tight, not able to do anything but roll with their dragon’s movements. The fight is ferocious even as it’s broken up by teasing snorts and playful bursts of fire. 

  
  


Before the riders could really notice, the dragons’ fight takes to the sky with frantic beatings of wings. Only just able to react, the riders lean even closer and pull downwards on the reins, trying to get them to land. After a few moments of no response that leave the knights on edge, the dragon’s finally listen and land still tumbling against each other. They knock together before skidding to opposite sides of the ring, both dragons and riders are breathing heavily.

  
  


The captain raises his hand with a smile, “I think that will be enough for the day. You held up surprisingly well for your first fight.”

  
  


Peter pridefully nods as he slides down from his mount, reaching forward to firmly shake hands with Steve who pulls him into a tight hug instead. Captain Rogers affectionately says, “I can’t believe the little boy breaking up my practice has grown into a full dragon knight. I’m so proud of you.” 

  
  


Holding back tears from his eyes, Peter pulls back from the hug with a final pat on Steve’s back, “I try to do nothing but make you proud.”

  
  


“Hey! What about me?”

  
  


Peter looks up to see King Tony standing on the sideline of the sparring grounds with a wide grin on his face. Peter smiles at him while giving a slight nod in acknowledgement, “You’re a pretty close after thought.”

  
  


King Tony gives an indignant huff while Steve gives him a reassuring pat on his back. Stuttering through a mildly wounded response, Tony proclaims, “You came from my  _ loins _ ! I have to be the center of your attention!” 

  
  


Reveling in teasing his dad, Peter laughs, “What are you even doing here?”

  
  


“Is that any way to talk to your dad who has put an invested interest in your dragon riding?”

  
  


Peter has to squash down the unadulterated delighted surprise in his voice, “Did you really come just to watch?”

  
  


“And see the dragon my whole country is raving about, of course.” Peter doesn’t let the mild disinterest wound him as he chuckles, patting Deadpool proudly, “He really is a beauty.”

  
  


With pride, Peter slips off, beginning to long task of taking off all of Deadpool’s added coverage and reins to let him roam free while he talks to his father, “He really is.”

  
  


Once he’s completely freed from the added weight, Deadpool darts off towards the clearing where Natasha is frolicking. Not wanting to watch that imminent catastrophe, Peter turns back to his father, “Is that really the only reason you’ve come?”

  
  


Tony smiles at his son, looking more weary than usual, “Well, you have to admit, it is a pretty impressive dragon.”

  
  


Taking a deep breath to center himself, that he’s learned since he was old enough to understand his father, Peter nods resigned, “Okay, feel free to look around.”

  
  


Casually putting his arms behind his back, Tony nods back, “I will.”

  
  


Not wanting to be a part of the shit show that any conversation with his father dissolves into (especially after Pepper), Peter turns around to see Natasha and Deadpool wrestling. Well, more like Natasha pining Deadpool to the ground and slipping away before Deadpool can land a throw. Peter can hold back the snort at the ridiculous sight of his dragon being demolished by another a quarter of his size. 

  
  


Clint slides up next to him with a smile, “Seems like you have your hands full with that one.”

  
  


Peter jovially responds, “I could say the same about you.”

  
  


The rest of the day is spent easily with Deadpool frolicaling with his fellow dragons and Peter working on his hand to hand combat. Peter gently washes Deadpool down after the long day before whispering into his ear, “I’ll see you tonight.”

  
  
  
  
  


“Your highness?”

  
  


Peter jolts up in his bed when a soft voices rouses him from his sleep. His hand reflexively snaps out to grasp Wade next to him, but remembers he never appeared last night. Hesitantly, Peter responds, “You may enter.”

  
  


A small servant girl ducks her head into the room, “I’m sorry to say, but it is suspected that a dragon smuggler snuck into the stables last night. Your dragon, sir - Deadpool is missing.”

  
  


Panic filling his veins. Peter jumps out of bed and begins assembling his armor, before barking out, “Prepare a party.”

  
  
  
  


It takes a little over an hour to find a burnt ring on the outskirts of the capitol. Silently, the party follows the trail of destroyed grass and ashen corpses. Peter sits stoically on the back of a borrowed dragon, planning the high hell the thieves will pay for touching his loved one.

  
  


The party pulls to a stop when they see a still burning clearing with a figure in the distance. Peter’s heart stops as they approach, not allowing himself to get too hopeful.

  
  


Once he sees the swooping horns and spiraling scales spread on naked, decidedly human skin, Peter rushedly slides off the dragon. Blindly sprinting into the clearing, Peter sees nothing but his loved one’s anger dissolving into relief when their eyes meet. The draeconus’ shoulders instantly slump when he realizes who’s rushing towards him. 

  
  


Nothing has felt better than the fear washing off in waves as Peter wraps his arms around Wade and rubs his face against his neck. Peter holds back the tears in his eyes as strong arms shakily wrap around him, but freezes when they do the same.

  
  


The prince is pushed to the ground when Wade abruptly stands up in a low crunch looking ready to spring. Peter tries to look around his unabashedly naked loved one, only to come face to face with multiple weapons pointed at them. 


	10. Honey, You're Naked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one came out a little late! I got distracted by other things but I hope the length makes up for it <3

Peter is frozen in fear by the unexpected reaction of his team mates. It’s not often that he has to stare down the wrong side of multiple swords. Especially not when they’re wielded by his own team. Looking his lover over, Peter comes to the blindingly obvious realization that his crew has never seen Wade’s other form.

  
  


Certainly never having seen  _ anything _ with another form. 

  
  


The sweeping horns with the molten reptilian eyes must look at least a little intimidating. Standing with his shoulders tense and white hot magma bubbling at the corners of his mouth definitely doesn’t help.

  
  


Tensely placing a hand on Wade’s shoulder before the situation can escalate, Peter whispers, “Honey, you’re naked.”

 

Not even stopping to contemplate it, Wade continues to stand between his lover and the assumed threat, but the knight party only holds firm in their stances. Peter lets out an annoyed huff before slowly taking off his cloak, swinging it over Wade’s still tense shoulder to cover him. Putting on his princely stature, Peter steps in front of the barely restrained Wade, “I am your Prince Peter and I command all guards to stand down.”

  
  


The party shifts uncomfortably, looking at each other and then at Captain Steve for confirmation. Clint steps forward appeasingly, yet still hesitant, “Peter, I’m not sure if you’re aware that this is a shift-”

  
  


Peter can hear the fire threatening to burn furiously in Wade’s mouth again, but he cuts in firmly before the situation can escalate any further, “I said stand  _ down _ .”

  
  


The guards uncomfortably lower the weapons, looking to Steve for reassurance, but they are not even noticed as their captain never breaks awed eye contact with Wade. Ultimately, he’s shaken out of his trance and belatedly drops his own weapon with his men. Letting the stress pour out of him with the threat minimized, Peter takes Wade’s hand, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go take care of my betrothed. I think he’s had a stressful enough day.”

  
  


Not waiting for his party’s response, Peter ushers Wade towards the borrowed dragon, but Wade growls once he realizes what’s happening. Wordlessly, he shifts into his dragon form while Peter looks away. He lets an indignant sound when he sees his favorite cape fluttering to the ground, shredded from the stretch of having to adjust to the shift. Deadpool distracts him though with a completely dragon paw pulling the prince onto his back. Peter wordlessly follows the movement before looking over at his crew, who look stunned.

  
  


Not able to hold back the smugness, Peter shoots Clint a shit eating grin, “I will give you a full run down tomorrow. As for now, process and sleep.”

  
  


With those concise words of parting, Peter tilts his hips forward to urge Wade homeward.

  
  
  
  
  


“So, when are we getting married, hubby?”

  
  


Peter laughs as Wade predatorily corrals him towards the bed. He gently places both hands on Wade’s chest though, dropping his head forward. The prince lets out a deep sigh, feeling all of the tension bleed out of his shoulders that he didn’t even realise was there. He quietly murmurs without acknowledging Wade’s question, “You’re here.”

  
  


Gently placing a kiss on the top of Peter’s head, he whispers into his hair, “I am. I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

  
  


Backtracking in the conversation, Peter groans, “I’m sorry for telling people we’re betrothed.”

  
  


“I’m not.” Wade gently runs his hand through Peter’s hair before he leans back to look him in the eyes, “Unless you don’t actually want to.”

  
  


Not answering the unspoken question, Peter quips back, “We’ve only known each other for a few months.”

  
  


“Some betrothed have never even met, and,” Wade breaks eye contact for a moment, before staring at Peter intently, “and I love you.”

  
  


Peter grabs both sides of Wade’s face and pulls him into a chaste kiss, only backing off enough to whisper against his lips, “I never want to wake up without you ever again. I love you so much my heart broke, Wade.”

  
  


Wade laughs as he holds Peter close to him, “I definitely don’t want to get kidnapped again, if that helps.”

  
  


Putting a damper on the post love declaration mood, Peter softly asks, “What happened?”

  
  


“Well-”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_ Deadpool stands in the stables in his dragon form, reined next to Bucky, who glares at him. Deadpool butts his head against the surly dragon, snorting at him, “Are you still sulking because you got your ass kicked?” _

  
  


_ “It was a draw.” _

  
  


_ “Only because your rider called it off.” _

  
  


_ The smaller dragon snaps back, “At least I don’t fuck my rider.” _

  
  


_ Not able to hold back his mocking laughter, Deadpool rubs his head against Bucky’s neck teasingly, “Was that supposed to be an insult, because at least I’m getting some. Maybe you should try it; might finally be able to wipe that glare off your face.” _

  
  


_ Nat calls from the adjacent stable, but separated by a wall, “Would you two knock it off with all the sex talk? Some of us had actual work today.” _

  
  


_ Deadpool lets out an indignant sound to which Nat sarcastically replies, “Oh yeah, because your guys’ rough housing totally counts as work. My apologies.” _

  
  


_ Hulk grunts from his space next to her, probably curled up in as tight a circle as a hulking dragon like that could manage. Deadpool might be the biggest dragon, but he has nothing on the sheer bulk of Bruce’s dragon. _

  
  


_ Deadpool laughs as he starts to stretch his shoulders and back, getting comfortable before shifting. The only thing that stops him is Bucky’s face sharply pointing to the side, towards the entrance of the stables when he hears a sound. Not wanting to draw any attention to himself, he drops his stance and falls back into his place, curled across from Bucky.  _

  
  


_ From his position in the stables, the very back stall, Deadpool isn’t able to hear or see anything besides the hurried sound of heavy boots against stone and crunching hay. As the group, clearly more than three people but he still can’t tell exactly how many, work their way further into the barn, Deadpool can just make out the sound of a few hushed whispers. _

  
  


_ The dragon’s frantically pace in their stalls, but none begin breathing fire without commands from their riders. They’re all perfectly trained. Deadpool wants to see how this plays out before setting any fire himself. _

  
  


_ Upon entering Hulk and Nat’s stall, Deadpool is finally able to hear their arguments when a voice stage whispers, “This one has  _ got _ to be the one, boss. This is hands down the biggest dragon I have ever seen.” _

  
  


_ A stern voice responds clipply, “Does this look like the last stall? Just shut up.” _

  
  


_ “But we could still make some money for this one if-” _

  
  


_ “Do you want to get in trouble.” There’s a moment of silence while Deadpool strains to hear if anything is quietly exchanged, but the same voice continues, “I didn’t think so, so just shut your stupid mouth and follow orders.” _

  
  


_ Deadpool shifts uncomfortably, knowing he’s the only one who can understand them. Meaning the only one who can properly deal with this. Rather than draw any attention to his stall, which is the one they are clearly aiming for, Deadpool hatches a plan. They’re either looking for him or Bucky. If they’re looking for Bucky, he’ll burn their sorry asses without any remorse and make sure that Peter knows exactly what’s going on. If they’re coming for him, he’ll play along until they got to a less populated area and  _ then  _ set their sorry asses on fire. Either way, they’re going to get what’s coming to them, damn dragon smugglers _

  
  


_ Everything he assumed is assured when they step into his stall and the whole party gasps. The guy in front, most likely the boss, breaks into a slimy grin while a few of the party behind him, about six men dressed in all black, bump into each other in congratulations. The boss steps forward, spinning around with a flourish to address his men, just barely below a whisper, “We’re going to be stinking rich, boys.” _

  
  


_ Not able to hold himself back, Deadpool takes advantage of the turn back to nip at the leader’s hair. Hard. _

  
  


_ He quickly spins around and glares at Deadpool like he’s getting ready to chastise a petulant child. He pulls a piece of what looks like leather out of his sack before slowly approaching Deadpool, who calmly snorts in response. His hand darts out to attach what Deadpool now realizes is a muzzle and reins around his snout. Some of the party quickly goes over to do the same for Bucky, both of them now leashed to one of the walls. _

  
  


_ Before Deadpool can process why they would do that to not only him but also his stallmate, he whines loudly although muffled by the muzzle as a sharp pain hits his back. His head whips around only to see the boss weilding a flogger. Magma bubbles in the corner of his mouth in anger, but he swallows it down before he could set everything on fire, though he trembles as it’s raised again. The man simply smiles at him, looking smug, “That’s more like it.”  _

  
  


_ With a head nod, one of the smugglers darts forward to undo Deadpool’s reins, slowly walking him out of the stall. He nods at Bucky, who is still leashed and confused, reassuringly. He’ll be back soon. _

  
  
  
  
  


_ These smugglers have clearly never worked with a draeconus before because they leave his hands completely untied, forcing him to walk himself, although he is still led with reins. The bandits lead him through the back trail of the barracks, avoiding the city as a whole which as all the better for Wade. Although he does not want to set the forest on fire when he roasts these men like marshmallows. _

  
  


_ Deadpool calmly walks with them through the forests, cataloging the whole path from the little snip its he remembers from his walks with Peter. Once they make it to a clearing, Deadpool snickers as magma bubbles in the corners of his mouth. He unleashes a large volley of flames, ready to spring into action in order to fight any survivors. _

  
  


_ But nothing happens. _

  
  


_ Deadpool actually ends up having to swallow his magma which causes him to gag a little, stumbling in his walk. The whole party stops when Deadpool does, turning on him with swords.  _

  
  


_ The boss steps forward with a flogger to address his team, “The dumb animal probably just choked on its own fire. Remember what he said, no excessive injuries.” _

  
  


_ Feeling mildly comforted the whole party, turns but doesn’t sheath their swords. There is only enough time for Deadpool to quickly reach up to cut the corner of his muzzles before he’s being urged forward. Because it doesn’t fall yet, and not wanting to be on the wrong side of that flogger no matter how much it’s beneath him, Deadpool follows. _

  
  


_ The person in charge of his reins chuckles, “How dumb is this prince to leave his dumb dragon lying around?” _

  
  


_ Fueled with anger and not willing to play the charade any longer, Deadpool rears back, snapping the weakened muzzle and unleashes a high arch of flames. It easily engulfs the whole smuggler band, causing the closer ones to catch fire and others to be badly scorched. The few who are not shrieking as they burn alive, Deadpool easily catches in his maw and sends flying, sure to die on impact if the contact with pure fire doesn’t get to them first. _

  
  


_ Once the carnage is complete, Deadpool sits on the ground, sure that it would be easier for Peter to find him then the other way around. Knowing that his prince is coming, Deadpool shifts into his human form, but he underestimated how taxed he would be. He curls up into a ball, warmed by the surrounding flames and is lulled with the thought that his love will come for him soon. _

  
  
  
  


“And that’s how you found me.”

  
  


Peter stares at his beloved wide eyed, “Are you okay?”

  
  


“Can we please just have ‘Thank God You’re Alive’ sex now?”

  
  


Understanding that the wound if too fresh to talk about, Peter shakes off the heavy mood by leaning in to kiss Wade, which the other immediately deepens by turning his head, careful of his horns. He dips his tongue into Peter’s mouth as he starts to push Peter backwards, towards the bed. When the back of his knees make contact with the edge, Peter lets himself fall while pulling Wade down with him.

  
  


Wade was not joking about the whole ‘life affirming’ part as he hungrily licks into Peter’s mouth likes it’s been days since they’ve seen each other rather than hours. Peter falls victim to the hysteria of it all too though because he sure gives as good as he gets. They’re more than content in just lying on the bed aggressively making out.

  
  


Or so Peter thought before he gasped into the kiss when Wade’s warm hand gripped him through his pants. From many nights of practice, Wade quickly gets Peter from half hard to aching in his pants with firm squeezes and light touches. They pant into each other’s mouths as Peter starts to return the favor, but Wade gets fed up and strips Peter of all remaining clothes until the match in nudity.

  
  


Peter gently rolls them over so that Wade is lying on his back with Peter straddling his hips, “I want to ride you.”

  
  


“And I thought we were going to have sex.”

  
  


Gently swatting his betrothed’s chest at the lame joke, Peter leans over to the oil vail he’s learned to keep readily at hand in the months they’ve spent together. It was nice in the woods, but chafed dicks are no fun.

  
  


Perched on Wade’s lap now, Peter makes quick work of scissoring himself open, still making sure to give Wade a bit of a show. Every once in a while he flutters his eyes when he grazes his prostate and bites his lip when Wade’s hand on his waist tightens. 

  
  


Once he’s able to slip in three fingers comfortably, Peter wipes off the excess oil on Wade’s dick to slick him, before lining himself up. He lets out a quickly groan as he starts to sink down. From so many nights of being in the same position, he’s still not completely used to Wade’s size. Peter hasn’t really been on many dicks in his life, with this being his first, but from seeing more enough in the bath houses he knows Wade is only a little bigger than average. If he’s stretched enough, Peter loves the full feeling he gets when Wade slides all the way in. Like right now.

  
  


Slowly gyrating his hips, Peter loves the feeling of Wade stir inside him, and Wade bucks up into him. Peter stops moving his hips when Wade starts laughing though. Wade wipes away a tear before answering to Peter’s questioning, and slightly pissed of, expression, “I’m sorry. It’s just- ha- That’s your  _ riding  _ move, and just like always you got  _ me _ to move.”

  
  


Peter can’t help but join in on the laughter. Wade groans though as Peter involuntarily tightens around him because of it. The mood of the room quickly shifts from jovial to steamy as Peter continues his hip swivels. Wade bucks up to meet him, unsettling his rhythm.

  
  


Giving into it, Peter actually starts riding up and down Wade’s dick, bracing himself with two hands on Wade’s chest. A firm hand on the back of his neck pulls him down into a sweet, languid kiss. Wade thrusts his hips up to meet Peter’s as they set a slow pace like they have all the time in the world together.

  
  


It feels like years and seconds where they’re wrapped together and world dissolves into the feeling and sounds of each other. Their hands wander against each inch of skin of the other, staying as close together as possible, touching from head to toe. They feed off of each other’s pleasure as Peter tightens and Wade’s thrusts grow deeper. 

  
  


Each moment wrapped together feel like their melting together until they are inseparable from each other. If they were to be honest, they were inseparable far before this moment. Never before has something as primal as sex felt this otherworldly. It is like they could be bonded just by Wade’s dick being in Peter’s ass.

  
  


They cum together like that: as one.


	11. Thanks for Showing My Dad Your Dick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is super short! I hope you like it anyway though <3

Peter wakes up slowly, surrounded in complete warmth, like he’s become so accustomed to. He wiggles a bit as he feels a hard cock pressing against his back. He settles against his fiance comfortably, deciding to start morning sex after he gets just a little more sleep. Just a little.

  
  


But he freezes when he hears, “I thought they were kidding.”

  
  


The prince bolts upright, shaken out of his sleepy haze. He stares at his father who is lounging across the room from them in a plush chair. His robes fall around him like he’s perfectly placed them to get his portrait done. Or to make a cocky impression. He’s exuding this aura of sick smugness, barely masking deep irritation. Peter groans, used to his father’s eccentric ways, “Could you not have waited until we were at least dressed for this talk?”

  
  


“Well, you waited long enough to tell me that not only is your dragon a shifter, which is crazy on its own, but you are also apparently  _ betrothed _ to this creature. So  _ no _ , I could  _ not _ have waited until you were dressed.”

  
  


“I’m sorry,” his father leans back in the chair with his arms crossed, losing the mask of teasing so he just looks properly pissed off, and Peter lets out a long breath, “I really am. I just- I love him. I love him so much.”

  
  


“Clearly, if you’re willing to marry that.” 

  
  


Peter was hoping that his father would be able to roll with it, but it would be more realistic to guess he would be bitchy. His father is always bitchy. To be fair though, Peter dropped a bomb on him. Hell, he wasn’t even the one to tell him

  
  


“I should have told you. I could barely handle that draeconi were real so I didn’t even-”

  
  


“Drae-what?”

  
  


“Draeconi. Wade says that the term shifter is offensive, so you should call them draeconi.”

  
  


“You’re listening to,” Tony makes a general gesture towards the still sleeping man next to him, “That?”

  
  


“ _ That  _ is going to be your son in law,” Peter snaps out. The look of anger and hurt on his father’s face stops him though, so instead he runs a hand down his face, letting out a long groan, “Can we please not do this right now?”

  
  


King Tony stays silent for a moment, not taking back any thing he’s said or adding to it. He lets out a long sigh as he gets a far off look in his eyes, “God, I wish Pepper was here for this. She’d know exactly what to say.”

  
  


The room goes completely silent, except for Wade’s heavy breathing. They both look down sadly at their hands, quiet like they get whenever Queen Pepper’s death comes up. May she rest in peace. Peter attempts to broach it though when he whispers, “I know, but if it helps I think you’re doing pretty alright. Please just tell me that you’ll be civilized. You don’t have to be okay with this right now, but at least tell me that there’s a possibility you will be.”

  
  


Peter holds his breath as he waits for his father response. He takes a moment to consider it before quietly whispering, “I think there’s a possibility.”

  
  


“That’s all I need to know. I think you’ll actually really like him. He’s got a lot of personality.”

  
  


Before King Tony can reply, Wade picks that moment to wake up, and immediately throws the blanket back. He lunges in front of the bed, poised to defend Peter against an attacker even as his eyes are still blurrily trying to focus. It’s clear that he doesn’t even know who he’s defending against as smoke puffs out of his nose.

  
  


A wide smirk spreads across King Tony’s face as he quips, “Well,  _ now  _ I see the rush to get married.”

  
  


Peter fills with dread when he realises that not only is his staring at Wade’s usual naked back, but also his naked ass. Oh god. Apparently, Wade didn’t think it was important to slip on underwear after their late night activities. Peter hurriedly reaches forward to pull Wade backwards onto the bed, throwing the blanket over him to hide his crotch. In total mortification, Peter buries his head in the back of Wade’s neck, “Thanks for showing my dad your dick.”

  
  


Wade shrugs, “We all have them.”

  
  


Abruptly standing up, King Tony readjusts his robes so they fall properly before sassing, “You’ve got yourself a real charmer there, son.”

  
  


This is the moment Peter’s sure that embarrassment can kill. If possible, he buries his head even further into Wade’s neck. Sarcasm fills his tone as he laments, “I’m  _ so _ happy you two have had good first impressions.”

  
  


King Tony starts to walk out the door before he throws over his shoulder, “You two better get up soon unless you want me to plan the whole wedding.”

  
  


He’s out the door before he sticks his head back in, a hand covering his eyes as he laughs out, “Also, don’t forget protection.”

  
  


No, _ this _ is the moment embarrassment could kill.

  
  


Before he can die, Wade shoots out, “What’s the point in worrying about the aging effects of syphilis if I could get killed by a smuggler any minute.”


	12. I Think That Can Be Arranged

Peter’s plan of happy morning sex is ruined by his father’s interruption and the ensuing awkward moments. Wade flashing his father is more than enough of a boner killer.

  
  


Although his first plan is ruined, Peter does make good on that little bit of extra sleep. He happily curls around his fiance attempting to avoid the outside world. Wade seems more than happy to comply as he spoons him from behind. 

  
  


This dream is broken yet again when Peter’s personal butler sticks his head into the room nonchalantly, “I’m sorry to wake you, your highness, but his majesty was very adamant that you were to be woken by seven.”

  
  


Wade groans as he nuzzles into Peter’s neck, “Your dad is an asshole.”

  
  


The butler chokes in his surprise as he splutters, “You can’t say that about his majesty.”

  
  


With a pillar of smoke huffed by an irritated Wade, the butler scurries out of the room. Peter hits his chest in annoyance, “Don’t be a dick. He was just doing his job. It’s not his fault my dad is difficult.”

  
  


“What do you think he even wants?”

  
  


Peter rolls over and starts sitting up, but Wade wraps around his waist. The prince laughs as he pats his arms reassuringly, “The only way to find out is if we get up.”

  
  


Wade snuggles his face into Peter’s thigh, “I don’t think that’s true at all.”

  
  


“Well get up anyway because my dad has seen your dick and I don’t want the next impression to be even worse.”

  
  


Not able to hold Peter anymore because he’s still laughing, Peter slips out and starts to pull on his clothes for a day. He decides to look full regal, knowing that this day will most likely be spent in court rather than on the training fields. It takes multiple minutes to pull on all of the layers required to mix the navy blue and red suit that he loves. 

  
  


Peter looks over to the bed to see Wade indepthly watching him. He pulls the vest around him tighter self consciously but Wade only smiles and stands up from his position on the bed. Peter smiles as Wade leans down to kiss him once he gets close enough. Peter’s hand skates down naked skin and a realization dawns on him, “You don’t have clothes, do you?”

  
  


A huge grin splits Wade’s face, “I was waiting for you to realize that.”

  
  


With a groan, Peter leans his head out the door, “Hey, Happy?”

  
  


The butler walks back to the room, looking as annoyed as he can get away with, “Yes, your highness?”

  
  


“Can you go raid Thor’s closet for something you think might fit Wade over here? If possible, something that might go with this outfit.”

  
  


Happy gives him a dubious look before heading out with a nod. Peter smiles as he takes the few moments of solitude to wrap his arms around Wade, basking in the warmth and comfort. He knows Happy won’t take too long so he slaps Wade’s hand when they start to wander. 

  
  


Multiple times. 

  
  


It only brings a smile to both of their faces because of their childish behavior, and that’s how Happy walks in on them. He groans as he turns around to give them a little privacy, which Peter didn’t think about the naked Wade pressing against him. Wade laughs as Peter blushes, trying to change the subject, “Thanks so much.”

  
  


Handing over the requested clothes and not even glancing at Wade, Happy makes a face at the prince that shows his clear distaste for the moment. Peter inspects the clothes with a smile, not acknowledging Happy’s look, appreciating the quality and color scheme. The base color is a heavy wool in a deep maroon which perfectly accents the panels with spiraling black stitches. Overall, it has a quite simple design but it perfectly matches Wade’s dragon form. The fact that it’s only a vest, dress shirt, and slack only adds to the unassuming effect of it. It will probably be a little tight around the chest and long around the hem, but it will fit well enough for one day.

  
  


Peter shoves the pile of clothing in Wade’s direction, “You’ll need to hurry up, if you don’t want my dad walking in here.”

  
  


“He’s already seen my dick. What more could happen?”

  
  


With yet another displeased grumble, Happy takes that as dismissal and ducks out of the room. Peter adoringly watches as Wade pulls on the new suit. Peter smiles as Wade has to pull tightly against each button as they strain against his muscles, and laughs as Wade has to roll up his pants a little. 

  
  


Once the whole outfit is together, Peter’s mouth waters. Wade looks fetching, even as he has to roll up the sleeves because they are a little too long. It only adds to the whole nonchalant dapper look. Wade smiles at him cockily, even as he fidgets with the belt a little uncomfortably.

  
  


After properly taking in his fiance’s new look, Peter rushes him out of the door.

  
  
  
  
  


Peter is not surprised when they walk downstairs to find Tony sitting in the Grand Dining room with three table set at the opposite end from the entrance like a drama queen. He puts down his newspaper and smiles sarcastically at the two, “Nice of you to join me.”

  
  


Not able to hold back his eye roll, Peter scoffs, “It’s not like you gave us much of a choice.”

  
  


“Sorry for assuming that you’d want a say in your wedding planning.”

  
  


Wade looks at him skeptically as he slowly approaches his seat, the furthest from Tony who doesn’t look offended, “So you’re okay with it?”

  
  


“Okay isn’t the right word, but because you announced it, you’ve kind of put me in a rough position.” Peter swallows down the guilt and feels slightly annoyed at Tony’s clear lack of remembrance from their conversation this morning, but his heart swells when Tony amends, “But if you make my son happy, I can learn to live with it.”

  
  


“So what exactly do you have in plan Daddy o’ mine?”

  
  


Peter can practically see the added years onto Tony’s life stitching themselves into the weight of his forehead. This should be fun to watch.

  
  
  
  


.

For the past couple hours, there is not a single moment that Wade and Tony have not been going head to head. This morning, they seemed to have some sort of bond, even if it was through snark, but now they can’t seem to agree on a single thing. The flowers Wade suggested are too ‘primitive’. The material for the suits Tony suggested is too ‘garish’. The customs Wade asked for, like going barefoot or weaving flowers together, are ‘uncouth’, but Tony’s are ‘stifling’. It’s wearing on Peter’s nerves the more it continues because he wants the two most important men in his life to get along for once, but it doesn’t appear to be happening any time soon.

  
  


It comes to a head when they’re talking about colors for the wedding. It has been five minutes of Tony going red in the face asserting the necessity of gold in their color scheme because  _ they’re royalty of Christ’s sake _ , but Wade refuses to concede. Wade’s voice rises to match the King’s as he torts, “I’ve already said that it’s bad luck-”

  
  


“I know you’re new to this culture, but-”

  
  


“Are you seriously just going to talk over me again?”

  
  


“Why should I take an  _ animal’s _ opinion?”

  
  


Peter stands up abruptly from his seat, knocking the chair back as his fork strikes the porcelain plates. Both men go silent at Peter’s wordless outburst. Peter glares at his father, “You are  _ never _ allowed to call him that, and you know it. Once you are mature enough to realize that it’s just as much his wedding as it is your own son’s, you can come get us from our room. Until then, I hope you think about the word choice for your apology very carefully, because you clearly haven’t been doing that lately.”

  
  


Wordlessly, Peter turns around and marches upstairs, feeling as though he made his point clear. No matter the ultimatum, though, King Tony will not bow down in this moment, no matter how in the wrong he is.

  
  


Wade silently follows his fiance up to the room, and Peter slams the door behind him. Wade opens his mouth to clearly start patting Peter on the back for the outburst, but Peter rounds on him before any words can leave his mouth, “Don’t you dare say anything about my dad’s attitude because you are in close second for biggest dick of the year. Could you not have just conceded on  _ one  _ point? I get that gold might be bad for a couple to wear on a wedding day for you, but who the fuck cares what kind of vanilla our cake is. What difference does a single vanilla bean make? It’s still  _ fucking  _ vanilla!”

  
  


Clearly not expecting that, Wade stares at him stunned. His mouth opens and closes like a fish before he rounds back on Peter filled with a redirected ferocity, “Did you think that I was just going to let him ignore my culture?”

  
  


Flippantly, Peter snaps, “How does roses in the bouquets affect your culture?”

  
  


“Because it’s the principle. He doesn’t care about anything I say because I’m just some  _ animal _ to him. I’m not going to let him plan the whole wedding that he’s not even a part of.”

  
  


“The fucking  _ principle _ doesn’t mean you have to be a dick about. Every. Single. Decision. You don’t need to fight him to show him that you’re not an animal. If anything, it makes you look more dumb.”

  
  


Wade rounds on him angrily, “Are you calling me an animal?”

  
  


Peter feels knocked back for a moment as he replays his words back in his head, and the steam rushes out of him, “No, no. I didn’t mean it like that- I just-”

  
  


“You know what, you’re just like him and every other stupid fucking human. Just because it doesn’t fit into your pretty little box, doesn’t mean that it’s broken. I’m not just some animal. I’m your  _ fiance _ .”

  
  


Not wanting to keep fighting, Peter tries to keep himself calm as he responds to the clearly escalating situation, “I don’t think of you as animal and I sure as hell don’t think of you as broken. I wouldn’t have yelled at my father if I thought so. I just meant that I don’t think that you’re not going about this the right way. Why did you need to fight everything?”

  
  


Wade talks down to him as if he’s talking to a child, “Because how else was he ever going to listen to me?”

  
  


It takes all of Peter’s self control to not raise his voice in mounting annoyance. The only thing holding his anger at bay is sarcasm, “Screaming at him makes him want to listen? Because that works so well when he does it.”

  
  


There’s a moment of silence between them before all of Wade’s built up postering bleeds out of his shoulders like a popped balloon. He looks down at his hands uncomfortably for a moment before he glances at Peter again, “Maybe I didn’t think this all the way through.”

  
  


Not able to hold back his laughter, Peter snorts, “You think?”

  
  


“Apparently not.” 

  
  


They both snort at the frail joke and all of the anger rushes out of the room as they realize how ridiculous they’re both being. Peter leans forward to pull Wade towards him in a hug, “Why do care so much about this?”

  
  


Wade pulls Peter closer to him in the embrace, both snuggling into him and hiding his face from sight as he softly say, “It’s our wedding Peter. I only have so many traditions. I just don’t want to lose them.”

  
  


“Like what?”

  
  


“Like the fact that we can’t have gold at our wedding.”

  
  


“Why?”

  
  


“I don’t know.” Peter tries to look up to see his face, but Wade hooks his chin over Peter’s shoulder to completely keep it out of his line of sigh, “It’s just an old draeconi thing, I think. It’s like how dragon’s hoard gold, but we’re draeconi so we’re able to see that there’s more important things to life. We give up our most prized possession because nothing can be more important than our loved one on our wedding day.”

  
  


Before he can think about the ramifications for the question, Peter whispers, “How do you know so much about these traditions.”

  
  


Wade snorts out a dry laugh, “Before my parents ditched me, they at least gave me a bit of draecani knowledge so that it didn’t die with them.”

  
  


Peter isn’t really sure how to respond, so he holds Wade in silence. Before it can drag out too long though, Wade frantically starts back tracking though, “I totally understand if you want to do it anyway though. Like there’s a lot of dumb traditions that wouldn’t make sense for the prince and future king to do so I understand if-”

  
  


“I want to Wade.” Peter kisses the side of Wade’s face softly before the room goes silent again, but this time more comfortably. After a moment of thought, Peter breaks it to prompt, “Can we make an agreement?”

  
  


“Of the sexual kind?”

  
  


Peter laughs airily, “Can we please be serious?”

  
  


“Whenever we get serious we get angry but sure, I’ll humor you.”

  
  


“Can you stop fighting every decision if I advocate for you more?”

  
  


Wade smiles as he pecks Peter’s lips happily, “I think that can be arranged.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this barely got out on time! 
> 
> My life is about to get more hectic in the upcoming weeks, so I would not be surprised if the updates started coming a day later anyways. If that does happen, I will try my best to have it up only one day late at the maximum, but life gets crazy! 
> 
> Regardless, I hope you enjoyed <3


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final installment of Training Dragons and Other Sure Fire Ways to Die!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking through with me for this long! I hope that this chapter is worth it!

“I’m going to throw up.”

  
  


“No you’re not. You’re going to walk down that aisle, say your vows, and get married to Peter.”

  
  


Wade takes a deep breath with Steve’s strong hands on his shoulders steadying him as he stands behind the heavy wooden doors awaiting his arrival. Trying to get rid of some of his nervous energy, Wade attempts to wiggle out of the stifling layers of silk constricting his every breath, but Steve slaps his hands away for the umpteenth time. Wade grumbles, “This is why I said we should have gotten married in a nice clearing, bare to the sky like we’re supposed to be.”

  
  


Steve chuckles at Wade’s discomfort before gently soothing the wrinkles in his clothes, smiling at the flowing outfit that was already more of a compromise than King Tony was willing to allow. It’s a mixture between a suit and a dress with a flowing burgundy jacket that pools around Wade’s feet and flutters with every step. Although he’s wearing pants, the white fabric folds together like a skirt with his panicked pacing and the crisp white shirt tucked into his pants snuggly makes the whole ensemble blend together like one single garment. Steve smiles again once everything is tucked back into place and readjusts the chain of flowers twined around Wade’s horns. “This is the wedding fitting for two soon to be kings.”

  
  


Feeling confident in the slightly less jittery groom, Steve glides across the floor in his formal army uniform to knock on the doors, signaling that Wade is  _ finally _ ready. Steve takes his place at Wade’s arm as two little girls flutter forward to take their spot at Wade’s train. He takes a deep breath to steady himself before the heavy doors swing open.

  
  


Wade’s eyes trace the crowds nervously, not liking the humans watching him. His shoulders tense as he feels ready to bolt out of the room, taking off into the sky never to return. Draconae are not made to be trapped, and Wade feels absolutely pinned down by all of these eyes boring into him. Steve’s hand tighten its grip on Wade’s elbow as if he can sense Wade’s mounting anxiety. Grounded by Steve’s fatherly presence, Wade takes a deep breath, flitting his nervous eyes to the altar-

  
  


But his breath is stolen away when he sees Peter. His whole outfit, from the deep red jacket to the pressed shirt accentuating his lean muscle to the fitted pants supportive in all the right ways, makes him look all the prince that he truly is. His suit perfectly compliments Wade’s, but in dark shades with straight lines that give him all the authority he deserves. His skin almost looks like parchment against the deep burgundy and black of the jacket and gold of the dress shirt. Tears spring at the corner of Wade’s eyes as he’s frozen in shock, and a similar expression plays across Peter’s face. They share an eternal moment together through eye contact where neither of them are able to shatter it. The rest of the room, the universe melts away to just the two soon to be husbands, soon to be kings. Wade has never felt more free.

  
  


Peter is the first to shake out of the haze though, as he smiles brilliantly. Wade hesitates for only a moment before Peter subtly extends his hand, face down just below his waist with his fingers hanging loose. There has never been a more clear invitation, and the whole room must feel the electricity springing between them as Steve leans over to whisper, “Go get him.”

  
  


Without another moment of hesitation, Wade bursts out of doorway to the sound of Steve’s booming chuckles. The girls holding his train nearly trip over the abrupt start, but burst into laughter as they sprint behind Wade. They flowers in their matching crowns flutter behind them as the room is filled with their airy giggles and Steve’s booming laughter. Wade drowns all of it out though, as all his senses tunnel. All he can think about is getting to Peter.

  
  


Because of this, he misses the shock and fear spreading through the crowd. There are murmurs of worry at the overall spectacle of it all - a draconae sprinting at a  _ prince _ .  _ Could this even be  _ safe _? _ Some people jump to their feet in shock, hoping to maybe protect the prince, but Steve meets each person’s eye with a steady expression. They look unsure, but still slowly sit back in their seats.

  
  


Ignoring this whole interchange, Peter bursts into laughter when Wade jumps into his arms. Immediately the whole world doesn’t matter anymore. They laugh together as they frantically kiss, and Peter breathes into his mouth, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in at least year!”

  
  


“It’s been like an hour.”

  
  


“Still too long.”

  
  


“You are supposed to wait until  _ after _ you’re pronounce married.”

  
  


The two look away from each other to see King Tony leaning over to stage whisper to them - more like  _ at _ them - sternally. He gestures his head towards the crowd, all staring in shock. Wade shutters in Peter’s arm as he’s gently placed back onto the ground. They share a look before quietly giggling, calming both their nerves. After one more shared moment, they take a step back into their proper places. The two girls holding Wade’s train move off to the side after a nod from their king, throwing a few flower petals at the couple.

  
  


With one final glance at each other, the soon to be husbands look at the official as a sign to start. Her firm, booming voice fills the hall as she begins the speech, “We gather here today-”

  
  


Tears immediately fill Wade’s eyes as the whole situation catches up to him. This is real. Wade is marrying Peter.

  
  


A firm squeeze of his hand brings him out of his spiraling thoughts as he looks up to see Peter staring at him with matching tears in his eyes. Instead of looking back at the official, they share all of the unspoken, newfound and long standing sentiments through unbreakable eye contact. This is really happening.  _ They _ are really happening.

  
  


When the official finishes her orations, Peter and Wade lean in for a kiss. With their hands newly bound with gold silk to represent their binding commitment to each other, Peter carries Wade down the aisle as the crowd rains down coins and petals. Although there are still whispers of uncertainty, everyone in the room can feel the unparalleled love and devotion radiating off of the couple. Peter, with Wade nestled in his arms, takes confident strides out the door and into their future together.

  
  
  
  
  


The banquet is more for political gain than actual celebration, so Peter and Wade are bored to tears as they sit at the head of their table. They keep each other entertained with Peter’s murmured steamy gossip and Wade’s sharp commentary. The food is exquisite, which is the only real highlight as dignitaries attempt to woo the future kings. There is still plenty of time left in King Tony’s reign, but the marriage marks the start to the succession. Peter feels the crown weighing heavily on his shoulders as the final step to his rule take place, but at least he has Wade by his side. Tony guides them through countless introductions and small negotiations, but the couple feels the unspoken obligations.

  
  


In order to remain royally correct, the newlyweds have kept the PDA to constant hand holding and small pecks, but everyone can feel the tension growing the longer the night wears on. Peter has to slap a few too many of Wade’s wandering hands and Wade splutters a few too many times at Peter’s heavy eyes for the crowd to remain unaware. After only a few hours of the reception, King Tony steps up to the podium to announce, “The couple has decided to return to their chambers early on this blessed day. Let us all wish them well on the first night of their future together. We all know it will not being a boring one.”

  
  


With twin sighs of relief, Peter and Wade lift their clasped hands in the air together. Blushes run high on their cheeks at the double entendre, and the crowd roars their applause. Continuing the tradition, Peter gracefully scoops Wade up to carry him to their chambers for the long night ahead.

  
  
  
  
  


Once the door to their bedroom shut, Peter and Wade take a good look around the room they are staying in for at least the next couple days. Maybe weeks, going by their standards. 

  
  


After a moment of shock, Peter’s eyes tear up as he notices the dim lighting only from candles placed sporadically around the room. Other random trinkets are spread around, like books and gold. Peter can recognize every single one. He whips around to stare at Wade who has a smirk spread across his face, but trepidation hidden in his eyes.

  
  


Without a single word, Peter launches himself into Wade’s arms, showering him in kisses. Wade bursts into laughter as he easily catches him and swings him around. The tears finally fall as Peter separates from the kiss only long enough to whisper into Wade’s ear, “It’s like it’s our first night together.”

  
  


Wade leans forward to kiss him again with sparkling eyes, before whispering back, “That’s because it is. All we need is a naked fight scene and a leg healed too fast, then - boom - we’re right there all over again.”

  
  


Peter can’t help but smack Wade’s chest and burst into laughter at the cheesy sentiment. Wade laughs too, even as he pulls Peter back into the kiss. 

  
  


Rather than the sporadic cheery one they shared before, this kiss is filled with exploration and childish wonder. Hands start to wander, both thinking of that night not so long ago - total strangers probably making a horrible decision together.  They are immediately transported back to their first night together, mapping each other’s mouths and bodies.

  
  


An unspoken heat burns between them and it swallows all of the oxygen out of the room, but it just leaves the two of them in their own world. They kiss deeply, with  _ a lot  _ of tongue, but not leading anywhere - just revelling in the exploration of the well known. Like their first night, it’s the two of them against the world.

  
  


Wade places his hand on Peter’s chest, gently pushing him away so they can both catch their breath, before saying, “Help me get out of these clothes because I am wearing way too many layers to be sexy.”

  
  


A smiles spreads across Peter’s face as he squeezes Wade’s ass. “I definitely don’t agree with that.”

  
  


Wade smacks his ass in revenge before slipping off his jacket, letting it pool behind him like a lake of satin wine. Peter simply watches in amazement as Wade pulls on the large white belt cinching his pants together, letting them join the jacket on the ground. As he undoes the buttons on his shirt at a maddeningly slow pace, Wade looks at Peter from under heavy lidded eye lashes, “You know, you could be getting undressed too.”

  
  


Peter unabashedly looks over every expanse of naked, scarred skin before him, before licking his lips to reply, “But I’m really enjoying this show in front of me.”

  
  


With a chuckle, Wade throws his discarded shirt at Peter’s face. They laugh together as Wade sweeps him into a tight hug. Peter pulls the shirt of his head to pull Wade into a breathy kiss, still trying to hold back laughter. Wade pulls at Peter’s jacket while whispering into his ears, “Now it’s your turn to give me a show, and you better make it good with all the waiting you made me do.”

  
  


Taking the challenge for what it is, Peter steps back and slowly shrugs his shoulder out of his jacket. Wade slips onto the bed to get a better vantage point as Peter pulls the belt from his pants without breaking eye contact with his husband (His  _ husband) _ . Taking the time to step out of his socks and shoes because there’s no way in hell to make that sexy, Peter confidently undoes the buttons of his pants and slowly peels them off his legs, giving Wade the perfect view of his ass. With one swift movement, Peter throws his shirt on top of the growing pile of clothes and stalks over to the bed like a predator closing in on its prey.

  
  


Wade laughs at Peter’s attempts at seduction, as he looks kind of ridiculous with his dick hanging out, but he gladly greets Peter with a kiss. It’s slow and sweet, with passion boiling under the surface but it happily stays there because they’re in no rush. They literally have the rest of their lives together. 

  
  


After a moment of reveling in each other’s kiss, Peter restarts his path up the bed, coming to a stop perched on Wade’s lap. They continue their unhurried pace, and their hands join the equation. Rather than going to the easy access, their hands wander each other’s bodies, mapping it like they’re new all over again. Every touch feels oversensitized as the light flickers around them like it did in that cave not too long ago. It feels like everything has changed, but they’ve gone absolutely nowhere.

  
  


Finally giving into the feeling of each other’s bodies, Wade bucks his hips up so their hard cocks brush against each other. They let out twin moans as the pleasure rolls throw their bodies like sparks, more affected than they ought to be by such a fleeting connection. Nevertheless, they sync up into perfect patterns of grinding, slicking the space between them with precum. They frot against each other like teenagers, just enjoying the feeling of another body against their own.

  
  


The room fills with the sound of slick skin, labored breathing, and slow kisses. They continue to explore each other’s mouths, seeing all that this new angle has to offer, just as much as the new sensations do. They revel in each other’s bodies, soaking in this unhurried tempo, with the bonus of dick touching. It feels magical to just feel each other.

  
  


After they have been built up from feeding off each other’s love and the feeling of a slick cock pressing up against their own, Wade grabs Peter’s hand to wrap it around their joined dicks together. This adds a new sense of urgency as their moans echo off the wall. Rather than letting the natural undulations of the hips set the pace like before, they start to fuck into the space created between them. The kiss dissolves into open mouthed breathing against each other, soaking in the heat between them.

  
  


As climax approaches them, they both become a mess of chanting sweet nothing against each other’s necks. The words are completely unintelligible, but the sentiment still remains. Neither of them are even able to make a sound besides the other’s name as first Peter then Wade cums.

  
  


It’s a slow mess of coming down from such a high as they lazily fall back into their kisses, flopping down against the bed as a mess of tangled limbs. Wade kisses the top of Peter’s head, whispering into the sweat slicked hair, “Sorry I just came like a fledgling. I promise I’ll give you a good fuck before this honeymoon is over.”

  
  


Peter laughs as he snuggles closer into Wade’s arms, and the other nuzzles his chin on top of his husband’s head.

  
  


Neither have ever been more comfortable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry!
> 
>  
> 
> The time really just got away from me and next thing I knew it was almost a year later! I really meant to update regularly, but then everything got super busy in my life. Every time I tried to write it, I looked at the document and wasn't sure I could make it as good as it used to be. I'm still not in love with how it turned out, but I feel like I owed you guys an ending! This chapter can only be credited to the amount of people commenting and messaging me to continue it, so thank you to all of the dedicated readers! It really has been the kick in the ass that I needed! Please let me know what you think. Thank you so much for sticking through with me this long and I hope it was worth it <3
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. for all of you who noticed that the chapters went from 15 to 13, I did have two more chapters planned, not including a prologue; but it feels right to end it here. I might write the prologue, but it's a strong might so don't get your hopes up! Again, thank you <3

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to send super thanks to my beta [ Fireblaze1807 ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Fireblaze1807/pseuds/Fireblaze1807) for putting up with my shit and sending in the prompt that sparked this! I cannot say enough thanks!


End file.
